When Gods Came Calling

Chapter 1

LORD AYYAPPA: The Child Who Was Born to Two Males

Mahishi sat still, her breath calm and measured as she chanted her mantras and prayers for Lord Brahma. This moment of tranquillity was a stark contrast from when chaos had reigned free in her mind. It seemed like a lifetime ago. There was only one thought that had consumed her then—revenge. She hadn’t forgott en the events that had unfolded and ultimately led to the killing of her brother, Mahishasura—the demon king. In fact, that is all she had thought about, for years. Thought and raged. But now, the major shift in her perspective had been in terms of thinking more about how to avenge him. and she was still at it. But had she really got her revenge? Had any of it—all that mindless killing, those needless deaths, the bloody rampage been worth it? Did she have any more peace now? What about her brother, for whom she had walked this path that allowed no option of turning back? Was his soul any more at peace, now that she had avenged his death?

She had come this far, and yet, she felt hollow inside—as if a gigantic vacuum existed where there should have been a heart, just like the day when she had lost her brother. If anything, the vacuum had only become bigger, and more sinister.

A thousand questions plagued her today, just as they did that day, years ago. It was only the nature of questions that changed over time. That day, she had been consumed by fury and blame. Frowns appeared on her forehead as she sifted through the lens of history. The clouds of the past cleared away, and the memory of that day took centrestage—sharp and clear, as if an apparition had appeared before her. Was this woman really her younger self? Her bewitching eyes, glowing skin, were all a testimony to her beauty and youth. Mahishi touched her own face now. Her fi ngers ran along the wrinkles. had she really become that old? Surely, it hadn’t been that long, had it? Was it true what they said about your face being a mirror to one’s soul? had her ugly thoughts turned her face ugly too? With her eyes still closed, Mahishi turned her head up to see the woman in her mind again. Tall. Striking. Still in her prime. She walked straight and with short quick steps, unlike her laboured gait now. Her face was unlined, her hair darker and denser. Mahishi wanted to reach out to her, tell her to stop, to not waste her life on futile thoughts like revenge; but that woman was in a trance. She didn’t seem to be in any mood to listen. Mahishi could only watch helplessly, as her younger self, consumed by thoughts of her brother’s death, paced up and down. The vision continued as Mahishi reminisced about her past life.

Mahishi paced up and down. Her breath, hot and heavy, came out in short bursts as she remembered the recent events that had unfolded and caused the death of her brother, Mahishasura, the demon king.

She had no time to shed tears. She needed to chalk out a plan to seek revenge instead. They had killed her only brother. There was no chance she was going to let them off so easily.

And ‘they’ were none other than the so-called epitome of goodness—the ‘gods’ and ‘goddesses’. This was a fine example of their ‘holy’ actions. In truth, they were nothing but a bunch of scheming hooligans who couldn’t match his strength and agility, and instead had sent a woman to fight their battles.

Mahishasura was no ordinary being. Thanks to Brahma’s boons, he had the power to change form at will, possessed unmatched physical strength, and could not be killed by any animal or man. For the unscrupulous lot of the devas to have countered and defeated him would have required deceit. Deceit in the form of that woman.

Alas! How naive was her brother. He believed it was only men who dirtied themselves with bloodshed and gore and battles. Never had he imagined that he’d be up against a woman, that too someone as formidable as Durga. Women were beautiful, delicate creatures, to be protected and cherished, not sent into battles to kill or be killed. Women were not capable of violence, according to him. Women and goddesses were supposed to be graceful and gentle, not wily and fearsome. And, that had proved to be Mahishasura’s undoing. What her brother had omitted to foresee, thanks to his idealistic ideas of womanhood, was how a woman could be the end of him. The devas knew they couldn’t defeat him—no man or animal could, Brahma’s blessing had made sure of that.