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The Estranged Prince on Mount Krauncha
On Kailasa that day, the hour of homecoming had come. The mighty prince Kartikeya, slayer of Tarakasura, had circled the whole earth and returned, and the moment he arrived he heard that in his absence Ganesha had already been married. His heart turned so bitter that he left Kailasa and went away to Mount Krauncha.
Both Parvati and Shiva reached the mountain and pleaded with him at length, yet the prince would not return; instead he moved twelve kos farther off. Then the parents did the one thing that only parents can do. Since the estranged son would not come near them, they took on a luminous form and settled themselves right there. Aching with love for their child, they still go to look upon their son on the festival days: on the new-moon night Lord Shankara himself, and on the full-moon night Parvati without fail.
From that day the linga of Lord Shiva known as Mallikarjuna grew famous across the three worlds. Mallika stands for Parvati, and the word Arjuna names Shiva; in that single linga the lights of both are enshrined. Whoever takes its darshan is freed from every sin and attains all that the heart desires. This is the second jyotirlinga, the one that grants every kind of joy by the mere sight of it.
The Mahakala of Avanti
Now hear the story of the third jyotirlinga, in which Time itself becomes the sentinel of the devout. There is a lovely city named Avanti, a giver of liberation to embodied souls and exceedingly dear to Shiva. In it lived a great brahmana named Vedapriya, and his life was this: the study of the Vedas, the daily fire-offering, and the fashioning of a clay shivalinga for worship each day. Through this discipline he won the blessed end that comes easily only to saints. He had four radiant sons, Devapriya, Priyamedha, Sukrit, and Suvrat, no lesser than their father and mother in virtue. Because of them Avanti had filled with the splendor of sacred knowledge.
At that same time, on Mount Ratnamala, an asura named Dushana, a hater of dharma, having won a boon from Brahma, launched an assault upon the Vedas, upon dharma, and upon the righteous, and at last he took his army and marched even on the brahmanas of Avanti. At his command four terrible demons appeared in the four directions like the fire of universal dissolution. The brahmanas of the city grew frightened, yet those Shiva-trusting sons of Vedapriya were not afraid in the least. They steadied everyone, telling them to place their faith in Shankara who loves his devotees, and then, worshipping the shivalinga themselves, they sat down in meditation.
Just then Dushana stormed in with his army and gave the order that all of them be killed, be bound in chains. The sons did not so much as hear the words; they were fixed on the path of meditation toward Shambhu. But the instant that wicked soul formed the wish to slay them, at the very place of the worshipped clay shivalinga a pit split open with a tremendous roar, and out of it, at once, appeared Lord Shiva in a fearsome form, who became renowned by the name Mahakala, destroyer of the wicked, refuge of the good. He thundered that he had appeared as Mahakala for evildoers exactly like these, and he commanded the demons to flee far from these brahmanas. Then, by a single roar, Dushana and his army were burned to ash. Part of the army was slain, part fled, and like darkness before the sun the remainder vanished. Kettledrums sounded, and flowers rained down from the sky.
Well pleased, Mahakala Maheshwara said, Ask for a boon. The brahmanas folded their hands and answered, Mahakala! Mahadeva! Grant us liberation from the ocean of the world, stay here always to protect ordinary people, and rescue all who come for your darshan. Shiva gave them the blessed state, and to guard his devotees he settled into that most beautiful pit. For one kos in every direction the ground became the seat of Shiva in the form of the linga, and upon the earth he was called Mahakaleshwara. By his darshan sorrow does not touch a person even in dreams; the heart’s wish is granted, and liberation too in the world beyond.
The Chintamani, the Cowherd Woman’s Son, and Shrikara
In Ujjayini there was a great king named Chandrasena, versed in the truths of the shastras, master of his senses, a devotee of Shiva. Manibhadra, foremost among Shiva’s attendants, was his friend, and pleased with the king he gave him a great jewel called the Chintamani, radiant as the Kaustubha gem and as the sun, one whose mere sight, mention, or contemplation assured a person’s good fortune. When Chandrasena wore that jewel at his throat and sat upon his throne, his splendor among men was like that of the sun and of Narayana among the gods.
When they heard of this, kings from many lands grew covetous of the jewel. They joined together and, taking their fourfold armies, laid siege to the four gates of Ujjayini. Popular tales often tie this siege to a king named Ripudamana, yet the Shiva Purana names no besieger; in its eyes they are simply kings greedy for the jewel. Seeing his city surrounded, Chandrasena did not raise a weapon. He took refuge in Mahakaleshwara and, with a mind free of doubt, fasting, gave himself day and night to single-hearted worship.
In those very days a widowed cowherd woman lived in the city, and she had a single son. Carrying her five-year-old boy, she went to the temple of Mahakala, watched King Chandrasena’s worship of Mahakala with reverence, and returned to her camp. The boy too had watched that worship. Home again, curiosity moved him to attempt the worship of Shiva himself. He brought a lovely stone and set it in a solitary spot a little distance from the camp, took it for a shivalinga, and, gathering the make-believe of a child’s play, fragrant paste, ornaments, cloth, incense, a lamp, and unbroken rice, he worshipped it with devotion. He offered a divine food-offering shaped in his own mind, worshipped again and again with leaves and flowers, danced, and bowed his head at its feet over and over.
The cowherd woman lovingly called her son to his meal, but his heart was set on the worship. He did not come though she called again and again, so the mother went herself, and seeing him seated in meditation with his eyes closed, she took his hand and began to pull. When he would not rise, in anger she beat him hard. Even then the boy did not come, so she picked up the shivalinga and flung it away and destroyed all the offerings. The child cried out in grief, and the mother, scolding him harshly, went off home. Seeing his worship ruined, the boy fell down in a faint, crying Deva! Deva! Mahadeva!, and a stream of tears kept flowing. After two ghadis he came to his senses and opened his eyes.
And what that child saw when his eyes opened is astonishing even to hear. By Shiva’s grace his very camp had become a splendid temple of Mahakala: gleaming pillars of gems, a floor inlaid with crystal, water-pots of burnished gold, a vast golden gateway, terraces of sapphire and diamond. At its center stood the jewel-studded linga of the merciful Shankara, and upon it were arranged the very offerings the boy had made with his own hands. Immersed in supreme bliss he sang praise, bowed his head again and again, and when he stepped outside after sunset the camp glowed like the palace of Indra, studded within, on every side, with gems, jewels, and gold. In the hour of dusk he saw his mother sleeping on a beautiful bed, endowed with divine marks, every limb bright with jeweled ornaments, like a celestial woman in the flesh.
Overwhelmed with joy, the boy woke his mother in a rush. The cowherd woman looked and saw that everything had become wondrous. In her delight she pressed her son to her breast, and hearing from his own lips the tale of the grace of Girijapati, she sent word to the king. Chandrasena, having completed his vow, arrived that very night, and with his ministers and priests he beheld it all and sank into supreme bliss. Shedding tears of love and chanting the name of Shiva, he clasped the boy to his heart. That night there was a great festival, the townsfolk kept singing the glory of Maheshwara, and the whole night passed like a single moment.
When dawn came, the besieging kings heard this marvel from their spies and, astonished, began to say that in a city whose very children are such devotees of Shiva, the king Chandrasena must surely be a great devotee, and victory over him would be hard. If they opposed him, Shiva’s wrath would destroy them all, so reconciliation was the wise course; only then would Maheshwara show grace. Those rulers laid down their arms, and the enmity went out of their hearts. With Chandrasena’s leave they entered the city, worshipped Mahakala, and, praising the good fortune of the cowherd woman, came to her house, where Chandrasena stepped forward and honored them all. Beholding the temple that had appeared of itself, they turned their minds to the contemplation of Shiva, gave the cowherd child many gifts, and made that very boy the king of the cowherds of all the surrounding lands.
At this very moment the monkey-king Hanuman, worshipped by all the gods, appeared there. Every king rose and bowed his head. Hanuman sat among them, drew the cowherd boy to his heart, and said: Kings! Hear my words, all of you, and every embodied being besides, for in them lies the good of all. For those who wear bodies there is no refuge except Shiva. See what fortune is: this boy merely watched the worship, took inspiration from it, and, worshipping Shiva even without any mantra, attained him. This child, who will lift the fame of the cowherd line, is a supreme devotee of Shankara; he will enjoy every pleasure in this world and in the end will win liberation. In his eighth generation will be born the greatly renowned Nanda, in whose home Lord Narayana himself will appear in the form of a son and become famous by the name Shrikrishna. And from this day this cowherd prince will be known throughout the world by the name Shrikara.
Having said this, Hanuman, the son of Anjana and the very form of Shiva, looked upon the kings and Chandrasena with a gracious gaze, taught Shrikara the rite of Shiva-worship that is most dear to Shiva, and vanished before the eyes of all. The kings, honored, returned as they had come. Shrikara took up his worship in the company of brahmanas learned in dharma, and both King Chandrasena and Shrikara, serving Mahakala, attained the highest state through his worship. The shivalinga named Mahakala is the refuge of the good, Shankara who loves his devotees is the utter destroyer of the wicked, and this most holy account is said to grant every kind of joy, to increase devotion to Shiva, and to lead to heaven.
Source: Shiva Purana (Gita Press, Sankshipta Shivapuranank), Kotirudra Samhita