The Cloud Messenger - Part 02

Your naturally beautiful reflection will gain entry into the clear waters of the

Gambhira River, as into a clear mind. Therefore it is not fitting that you, out

of obstinancy, should render futile her glances which are the darting leaps of

little fish, as white as night-lotus flowers.

Removing her blue garment which is her water, exposing her hips which are

her banks, it is clutched by cane-branches as if grasped by her hands.

Departure will inevitably be difficult for you who tarries, O friend. Who,

having experienced enjoyment, is able to forsake another whose loins are laid

bare?

A cool breeze, grown pleasant through contact with the scent of the earth

refreshed by your showers, which is inhaled by elephants with a pleasing

sound at their nostrils, and which is the ripener of wild figs in the forest,

gently fans you who desire to proceed to Devagiri.

There, you, taking the form of a cloud of flowers, should bathe Skanda, who

always resides there, with a shower of flowers, wet with the water of the

heavenly Ganges. For he is the energy surpassing the sun, that was born into

the mouth of the fire by the bearer of the crescent moon6 for the purpose of

protecting the forces of of the sons of Indra.

Then, with claps of thunder, magnified by their own echoes, you should cause

to dance the peacock of the son of Agni, the corners of whose eyes are bathed

by the light of the crescent moon at the head of Shiva and whose discarded

tail-feather, ringed by rays of light, Parvati placed behind her ear, next

to the petal of the blue lotus, out of her love for her son.

Having worshipped that god born in a reedbed, after you have travelled

further, your route abandoned by siddha-couples carrying lutes because they

fear rain-drops, you should descend while paying homage to the glory of

Randideva, born from the slaughter of the daughter of Surabhi, and who

arose on earth in the form or a river.

When you, the robber of the complexion of bearer of the bow Sharnga, stoop

to drink the water of that river, which is broad but appears narrow from a

distance, those who range the skies, when they look down, will certainly see

that the stream resembles a single string of pearls on the earth, enlarged at

its centre with a sapphire.

Having crossed the river, go on, making yourself into a form worthy of the

curiosity of the eyes of the women of Dashapura, adept in the amorous play of

their tendril-like eyebrows, whose dark and variageted brilliance flashes up at

the fluttering of their eyelashes, and whose splendour has been stolen from the

bees attendant on tossing kunda flowers.

Then, entering the district of Brahmavarta, accompanied by your shadow, you

should proceed to the plain of the Kurus, evocative of the battle of the

warriors, where the one whose bow is Gandiva brought down showers of

hundreds of sharp arrows, just as you bring down showers of rain on the faces

of the lotuses.

Having partaken of the waters of the Sarasvati which were enjoyed by the

bearer of the plough who was averse to war on account of his love for his

kinsfolk, after he had forsaken the wine of agreeable flavour which was

marked by the reflection of Revati’s eyes, you, friend, will be purified within:

only your colour will be black.

From there you should go to the daughter of Jahnu above the Kanakhula

mountains, where she emerges from the Himalaya, who provided a flight of

steps to heaven for the sons of Sagara, and who laughing with her foam at the

frown on the face of Gauri, made a grab at the hair of Shambhu and clasped

his crescent moon with her wave-hands.

If you, like an elephant of the gods, your front partly inclining down from the

sky to drink her waters which are pure as crystal, in an instrant, because of

your reflection on her gliding current, she would become very lovely, as if

united with the Yamuna in second location.

Having reached the mountain which is the source of that very river, whose

crags are made fragrant with the scent of the musk of the deer that recline

there, white with snow, reposing on the summit which dispells the fatigue of

travel, you will take on the splendour like that of the white soil cast up

by the bull of the three-eyed one.

If, when the wind is blowing, a forest fire were to afflict the mountain,

ignited by the friction of branches of the sarala trees, burning with its

flames the tailhairs of the yaks, it would befit you to extinguish it

completely with thousands of torrents of water, for the resources of the

great have as their fruit the alleviation of those who suffer misfortune.

The sharabha there, intent on springing in anger at you who departs from

their path, would lunge at you, only to break their own limbs. You should

cover them with a tumultuous storm of hail and rain. Who, intent upon a

fruitless endeavour, would not be the object of contempt?

There, with your body bowed in devotion, you should circumambulate the

foot-print of the one wears the half-moon diadem, which is continually

heaped with offerings from ascetics, and at the sight of which, at their

departure from the bodies, cleansed of their misdeeds, the faithful are able to

achieve the immuteable state of membership of Shiva’s following.

The bamboo canes filled with the wind sound sweetly. Victory over the three

cities is celebrated in song by the Kinnari demi-gods. If your rumbling like a

muraja drum resounds in the caves, the theme of a concert for Shiva will be

complete.

Having passed various features on the flanks of the Himalayas, proceed thence

north to Krauncarandhra, gateway for wild geese, which was the route to glory

for Bhrgupati—you whose beautiful form is flat and long, like the dark blue

foot of Vishnu uplifted for the suppression of Bali.

And having gone further, become the guest of Mt Kailasa, the seams of whose

peaks were rent by the arms of the ten-faced one and which is a mirror for

the consorts of the Thirty Gods, and which, extending with lofty peaks like

white lotuses, stands in the sky like the loud laughter of the three-eyed

one accumulated day by day.

I foresee that when you, resembling glossy powdered kohl, reach the foot of

that mountain as white as a freshly cut piece of ivory, the imminent beauty

will be fit to be gazed upon with an unerring eye, like the dark blue garment

placed on the shoulder of the plough-carrier.

And if Gauri should take a walk on the foot of that pleasure-hill, lent a hand

by Shiva who has set aside his serpent-bracelet, your shape transformed into a

flight of steps, your torrents of water withheld within yourself, become a

stairway rising in front of her for the ascent of the jewel-slopes.

There the young women of the gods will use you as a shower—you whose

waters are brought forth by the striking together of the diamonds in their

bracelets. If, friend, you were unable to release yourself from them, being

encountered in the hot season, startle them who are intent on playing with

you, with claps of thunder, harsh to the ear.

Partaking of the waters of Manasa which bring forth golden lotuses, bringing

at pleasure momentary delight like a cloth upon the face of Airavata, shaking

with your winds the sprouts of wish-fulfilling trees like garments, enjoy the

king of mountains with various playful actions, O cloud.

Once you, who wander at will, have seen Alaka seated in the lap of the

mountain like a lover, with the Ganges like a garment that has slipped, you

will not fail to recognise her again with her lofty palaces and bearing hosts of

clouds with showers of rain at the time of year when you are present,

resembling a woman whose tresses are interwoven with strings of pearls.