Vellan and The Crows

The old heron Vellan spent most of his time fishing quietly by the pond. The pond was mostly dried up except for a few pockets of swamp between the thick grass that grew all around it. He would wait patiently for hours, sometimes the whole day, only to return home hungry. Catch or no catch he would thank his gods and leave for roosting.

One such day, as Vellan was by the pond, a crow flew down and perched on a nearby tree. She sat there observing him for a while; she then spread her wings and asked him, "How can I get to Kali Amma's temple?"

She expected Vellan to say something. He said nothing.

"Chetta, which way to Kali Amma's temple?" she asked him, loud and clear this time.

Vellan looked up. She was staring at him.

"Keep flying north... you will find the temple," replied Vellan in a feeble voice. He then returned to his fishing.

"Which way is north?" asked the crow. Vellan ignored her.

"Chetta, I am asking you..." the crow pressed. Stooping low, Vellan closed his eyes and did not respond.

The crow continued, "What kind of a place is this? I am on a pilgrimage and this grand seer of herons thinks it's below him to talk to me."

Hearing her complain, another crow dropped by.

She told the passerby crow how the heron was rude to a pilgrim like her.

"Chetta, what is all this?" asked the passerby.

"He had his eyes open till now," said the pilgrim.

Vellan stood still.

Soon another passing crow stopped by.

"He looks so innocent, but has no manners," he said, shaking his head.

"Chetta, Chetta," he called, trying to make Vellan open his eyes.

He then flew away, only to return with a few more of them. By the time he was back, many more crows had come to the pond. All of them were cawing together.

Hearing all the commotion, Vellan looked around. They cawed more feverishly when they noticed that he had opened his eyes. He was about to leap into flight.

"Chetta, where are you going? After all that you have done... You think you can just fly off?" said one of the crows. The others cawed in agreement.

Vellan paid no heed to the crows and took flight.

The crows started chasing Vellan. They attacked him, trying to knock him down.

He flew with all his strength, not knowing where he was going. The crows followed him, cawing.

After a while, Vellan realised that he was near Kali Amma's temple.

He flew into the temple courtyard as fast as he could. "Amma, Amma, please help me," he cried and lay exhausted in front of the temple.

As Vellan lay there, the crows surrounded him from all directions. A few overzealous ones among them jostled him. When he tried to escape, he realised he had been cornered. He closed his eyes and began mumbling some prayers.

"Stay away, stay away," said an elder crow. "He seems to be mumbling a curse. Let us wait for Kali Amma. She will do us justice."

It was already dusk, and there was no sign of Kali Amma. The crows started asking each other her whereabouts. No one knew where she was, so they waited.

At first, a few of them with nests and chicks excused themselves and left the temple. They were followed by elders who said they were too weak to wait this long.

Those who remained grew bored and ran out of patience. Slowly they moved away from Vellan.

"Don't think you are saved. We are all here only," one of them told Vellan while flying away.

Finally, only Vellan was left waiting in the temple courtyard. He got on his feet and stood there. He closed his eyes and prayed on.

It was pitch dark and close to midnight. The air around the temple grew warmer. The temple lights shone more brightly. The scent of sacred ash filled the air.

An owl hooted, after which a few bats flew out from the temple peepal tree. Vellan shuddered at these sounds. He was too scared now to open his eyes.

From afar, there was a faint sound of anklets approaching.

He gathered courage and slowly opened his eyes. At that very moment the temple doors sprang open and the most beautiful, terrifying darkness stood there. Kali Amma's bloodshot eyes sparkled. She looked towards him.

"Did they all go, Vella?" she asked.

"Amme, Amme..." Vellan called out.

He ran towards Kali Amma and prostrated himself at her feet.

Yama and Niyama

Two ants were making their way north through the dense forest undergrowth. Yama and Niyama had set out on a journey they had long dreamt of. But now, half a day from home, they had begun to miss home too.

For some time the forest had been alive with the story of Kashi the crow, who had flown all the way to Kailasa to meet Lord Shiva — the Giriruha, the one who dwells in the mountains. To meet Parameshwara Shiva was something Yama and Niyama had never dared to dream of. But after hearing Kashi's tales, they could not hold their desire back. They had thought of seeking out Kashi himself, who lived further downstream, but in the end the two young ants decided not to wait, and set off without delay.

"Namah Shivaya, Namah Shivaya," they chanted as they marched.

Whenever they stopped to rest, they told every passerby — other ants, grasshoppers, crickets, butterflies, spiders, termites, all those who crossed their path — that they were going to Kailasa to meet Lord Shiva. Most wished them well and told them to speak to Kashi. Many laughed at them.

After two days they reached Devi Amma's temple. By then a small entourage had gathered behind them — younger ants, crickets, even a few caterpillars. The little crawlers argued among themselves about how Yama and Niyama should get to Kailasa. They also had plenty of advice on what to do there.

Near the temple stood a Bael tree. She had been watching the small army pass by.

"Little ones," she said, "what will you do when you meet Bhagavan?"

They were silent. They had not thought about it. Just meeting him was their wish.

"I have a prayer," she said. "Will you carry it to Bhagavan for me? I wish to bear fruit. It has been many seasons since I have borne fruit."

"Sure thing! We will let him know..." called out Yama. They both prayed at the temple and moved on.

The further they went, the smaller their entourage became. Some grew tired and fell behind. Others stopped to quarrel with those who mocked them, and never caught up. In the end only Yama and Niyama were left. They walked in silence, Yama dragging behind Niyama. They were famished, and they missed their nest, their family, their friends.

Yama began to feel it had all been Niyama's idea, and that he had followed along like a fool. He could not bring himself to go any further.

"Come on, let us keep going," said Niyama. "If we keep chanting Namah Shivaya, we will reach Kailasa."

"I was a fool. I got carried away. It is best we turn back now, before we are lost in this forest forever," said Yama.

"They mocked us for a reason. Look how naive I have been," he went on.

"All right, all right. Let us rest a while," said Niyama. "We can go on once the noon sun has softened."

Yama said nothing. He stood looking at Niyama. Then he turned and began walking back the way they had come. Niyama did not call him back. He watched him go for a moment, and then continued on alone — "Namah Shivaya, Namah Shivaya."

Yama reached home. At first, the others teased him, asking how Kailasa had been, what Shiva had told him. Yama kept to himself. After a while they forgot.

Seasons later, the Bael tree was full of fruit like never before. Creatures relished the fruit day and night. The forest was abuzz with news of the bounty.

Everyone asked Yama about Niyama — about their journey, about his devotion, what he had spoken, how he had walked.

Yama lived the rest of his life thinking about Niyama — and thinking about Kailasa.