The Crow and the River

In the Koṅku country, on his way, Agastya found a place he loved, and he stopped there and set up a liṅga, the emblem in which Śiva is worshipped, and worshipped it with great devotion, for many days, with the water of his pot and with flowers and lamps and incense and food.

At that time Indra was in hiding from Sūra, the demon king who ruled all the worlds and meant to seize Indra and carry off his queen. Indra had fled with his queen to Cīrkāḻi in the Tamil country and planted a flower garden there for the worship of Śiva, and when Sūra's spies came searching the earth he took the form of a bamboo and stayed hidden, worshipping Śiva. But the clouds obeyed the demons and gave no rain, and the garden had no water. The sun had burned it, and it had withered to dust. Nārada came to see him, and Indra told him his sorrow: without flowers, how could he worship? Nārada told him how Śiva had sent the short sage to Potiyil, how the sage had sunk the Vindhya, and how he was now worshipping Śiva in the Koṅku country with the Kāviri held in his pot. If the Kāviri could be brought here, Nārada said, your trouble would be over. Worship the elephant-faced god, and he will tip the pot over.

Indra set up an image of Gaṇeśa, the elephant-faced son of Śiva, and worshipped him, and offered him sugarcane and coconut, millet flour and honey, the three fruits, sweet cakes and milk. Gaṇeśa appeared with his hosts around him, and Indra was afraid until the god told him not to fear. Then Indra bowed at his feet and asked his help. I planted a garden for the worship of Śiva, he said, and it has no water. Gaṇeśa said, Shall I bring you the waters of the seven worlds, or the heavenly Gaṅgā, or every river there is, or all the oceans? Tell me what you want. Indra said, I want none of those. Agastya has come down from Meru to the Koṅku country and is worshipping Śiva there, and in his water-pot is the holy river called Ponni, the Kāviri. If you would go and tip it over onto the earth, it would come to this garden, and my trouble would end.

Gaṇeśa agreed. He went at once and took the form of a crow, and perched on the rim of the sage's water-pot. Agastya did not know who it was. He saw only a bird, and he raised his hand to drive it off. Then Gaṇeśa, remembering Śiva's promise to the river, pushed the pot over and said to the river, Now go out over the earth. And the Kāviri burst out roaring, so that heaven and earth trembled, and ran out across the land.

The crow became a young brahmin boy and walked off. Agastya stood up in a rage. Who is this, he said, a god, an asura, a rākṣasa? Who is this, who spills the river and walks away without a thought, as if he were proud of it? I will soon know his strength. He went after the boy to rap him on the head with his knuckles, and the boy ran ahead of him, close and then far, up into the sky and out to every quarter and back down to the earth, always just out of reach of his hands. At last the sage was worn out. What can I do against such tricks? he thought, and in that moment Gaṇeśa showed himself as he was.

Agastya was shaken. Is it the elephant-faced one who came here? he cried. And I chased him to strike him! In his grief he raised the hands he had meant to strike with and brought them down hard on his own forehead. Gaṇeśa looked at him with great kindness. What are you doing, short one? he asked. I meant to strike you on the head, Agastya said, thinking you were a brahmin boy. I did not understand. I am making amends.

Gaṇeśa smiled and told him to stop. Agastya bowed again and again at his feet. I did not know you, he said. Do not hold my fault against me. Gaṇeśa said, Indra planted a garden for the worship of my father, Śiva, and it dried to dust for want of water, and he asked me for water. So I perched on your pot like a crow and tipped it over, and I told the river to go. I bear you no grudge for anything you did; it was all a game to me. You are dear to my father, and dear to me too. Ask for any boon.

Agastya asked that whoever, in the time to come, strikes their own forehead with their fists before Gaṇeśa as he had done, should have their troubles taken away, and Gaṇeśa granted it. Then Agastya said, The river is gone, and there is none like it. Give me back good water here. And he stretched out his hand into the new river and took a little water up and put it in his pot, and at once the pot was full, as full as it had been before, and it never ran dry.

Gaṇeśa vanished. The sage stood amazed, praising the child of the lord who dwells in every living being, and looked at the Kāviri roaring on its way, and laughed. Then he left the Koṅku country and went quickly on toward the south.