𝒞𝒽𝒶𝒾 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒪𝒻 𝒢𝒶𝓃𝑔𝒶

Bhagirath stared at the extensive spectrum of dry desert in front of him. It went on for leagues and miles, the sun ascending in the faraway horizon. The earth was splintered and any drop of water he put into it sponged up like a baby thirsting for milk. The hot wind blew over him and into the land raising dirt and dust. No, not dust. Ashes. This was the resting place of his entire lineage. 60,000 people. His great grandfathers and their brothers were in this desert, reduced to ashes. All because of a yagna for power. The grand Suryavanshi line was decimated. Except for him.

"Bring consensus to my grandfather and granduncles' souls," his father had said as his last breath left him. Bhagirath's father, King Dilip had given his entire life to try and bring peace, but the duty had remained incomplete.

Bhagirath thought back to the rishi who had cursed his grandfathers. Rishi Kapil had been in profound meditation, and the bustling of the sons of Sagara had awoken him and accused him of thievery. The sage's fury had been ineffable, and within moments there was only ash. Ashes and dust. The rishi had said, for peace, prosperity and happiness, the sacred Ganga had to come down, but she was precious to Brahma. Dilip's life had gone into pleasing Brahma, and Bhagirath was left to finish the task. Just Bhagirath and a vast desert of land.

While Bhagirath gazed into the expanse, a fire began evolving within him. A fire that raged into a staunch oath. Discoursing the ashes, dust and cracked land, he spoke, his voice reverberating with confidence. "I will put you to rest. I will bring Ganga down, not just for my family but for the world. I will do it! On my word as a grandson and an offspring of the Sun, I swear to you." He turned away, pledging to not look at the desert until it was sufficed with water.

After that vow, Bhagirath returned to his city, relinquished the throne and went into the Himalayas. Twenty, long, taxing years passed. "Om Brahmaya Namah. Om Brahmaya Namah. Om Brahmaya Namah." The chant was the only thing to leave Bhagirath's lips. His penance was gruelling, and his body almost waned away. But Bhagirath didn't care. The only thing on his mind: Brahma. More time passed. To Bhagirath, time became fluid, nebulous. Days, months, years churned around him, passing in an instance until a deep voice woke him.

"Unfurl your eyes child. I am here."

As Bhagirath snapped open his eyes, he was overwhelmed by the light. Brahma shone, with an otherworldly light, seated on a swan red or golden complexioned bearded man, with four heads and hands. His eyes, which were just half opened, focused on Bhagirath, a soft smile playing on his lips. Bhagirath's eyes widened in awe and he bowed at deeply Brahma's feet, unable to speak.

"My child, your penance delights me. The commitment and perseverance in you deserve a gift. What can I give you, oh Bhagirath?" Brahma's voice echoed in Bhagirath's ears, the question ringing, but he was too dumbfounded to reply. Brahma merely chortled, "Ah, my son, I see what you are trying to accomplish. Arise and articulate."

At this, Bhagirath finally stood. With his head bowed, and hands folded together, he said, "Oh great one, there is no limit to your glory. You, who in moments can create worlds beyond my most outlandish ideation, have come to meet me? Who am I to ask anything from you? Being in your sight I have been given the entire world. I merely hope to fulfil my father's final wish. I would like to bring the river Ganga to my ancestral ashes. Their souls have not had rest in three generations, and with your grace, I would like for them to acquire rest. With your blessing, please give me the resilience to achieve this task."

At Bhagirath's words, Brahma opened his eyes fully and looked him in the eyes, almost as if testing him one more time. Bhagirath stared back, sobriety shining in his eyes. Finally, Brahma sat back.