Shiva is the master of both tandava, the fierce, violent dance that gives rise to energy, and lasya, the gentle, lyric dance representing tenderness and grace. Holding a drum upon which he beats the rhythm of creation, he dances within a circle of flames that depicts the arc of dissolution. He holds up the palm of one hand in a gesture of protection; with another he points to his foot to indicate the refuge of his followers. The image of the dancing Shiva is said by Shaivites to portray five cosmic activities: creation, maintenance, destruction, concealing his true form from adversaries, and, finally, the grace through which he saves his devotees. The outer form of the dance, however, is only one aspect of the divine flow of energy; followers of Shiva say that the dance is in the heart of every devotee.
Yet while the dancing Shiva is an important and popular representation, the abstract form of Shiva is perhaps the most commonly seen portrayal throughout India. Shiva is depicted as a conical shaft (lingam) of fire within a womb (yoni), illustrating the creative powers of Shiva and Parvati. In temples the lingam, which literally means “distinguishing symbol,” is an upright structure that is often made of stone. It is placed in a stone yoni that represents both the womb and the abode of all creation. The union between the lingam and the yoni serves as a reminder that male and female forces are united in generating the universe.
Shiva also represents the unpredictability of divinity. He is the hunter who slays and skins his prey and dances a wild dance while covered with its hide. Far from society and the ordered world, he sits on the inaccessible Himalayan plateau of Mount Kailasa, an austere ascetic, averse to love, who burns Kama, the god of love, to ashes with a glance from the third eye—the eye of insight beyond duality—in the middle of his forehead. And at the end of the eon, he will dance the universe to destruction. He is nevertheless invoked as Shiva, Shambhu, Shankara (“Benignant” and “Beneficent”), for the god that can strike down can also spare. Snakes seek his company and twine themselves around his body. He wears a necklace of skulls. He sits in meditation, with his hair braided like a hermit’s, his body smeared white with ashes. These ashes recall the burning pyres on which the sannyasis (renouncers) take leave of the social order of the world and set out on a lonely course toward release, carrying with them a human skull.
Shiva’s consort is Parvati (“Daughter of the Mountain [Himalaya]”), a goddess who is an auspicious and powerful wife. She is also personified as the Goddess (Devi), Mother (Amba), black and destructive (Kali), fierce (Chandika), and inaccessible (Durga). As Shiva’s female counterpart, she inherits some of Shiva’s more fearful aspects. She comes to be regarded as the power (shakti) of Shiva, without which Shiva is helpless. Shakti is in turn personified in the form of many different goddesses, often said to be aspects of her.
Shiva and his family at the burning ground. Parvati, Shiva's wife, holds Skanda while watching Ganesha, and Shiva strings together the skulls of the dead. Kangra painting, 18th century; Victoria and Albert Museum, London.Courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum, London; photograph A.C. Cooper
Narratives of culture heroes
A culture hero can easily be assimilated to a god by identifying him with an incarnation of a god. Thus, great religious teachers are considered manifestations of the god of their devotional preaching, and stories of their lives have become part of a very rich storehouse of narratives. Practically gods on earth, these ascetics, according to mythology, have amassed tremendous powers that they do not hesitate to use. The sage Kapila, meditating in the netherworld, burned to ashes 60,000 princes who had dug their way to him. Another sage, Bhagiratha, brought the Ganges River down from heaven to sanctify their ashes and, in the process, created the ocean. Agastya, revered as the Brahman who brought Sanskrit-speaking civilization to South India, drank and digested the ocean. When the Vindhya mountain range would not stop growing, Agastya crossed it to the south and commanded it to cease growing until his return; he still has not returned. Vishvamitra, a king who became a Brahman, created a new universe with its own galaxies to spite the gods.
Moving from myth to hagiography (biography of venerated persons), there are also stories told of the great teachers, and every founder of a sect is soon deified as an incarnation of a god: the philosopher Shankara (c. 788–820) as an incarnation of Shiva; the religious leader Ramanuja (d. 1137) as that of Ananta, the sacred serpent of Vishnu; and the Bengal teacher Chaitanya (1485–1533) simultaneously as that of Krishna and his beloved Radha. Myths of holy rivers and holy places
Of particular sanctity in India are the rivers, among which the Ganges stands first. This river, personified as a goddess, originally flowed only in heaven until she was brought down by Bhagiratha to purify the ashes of his ancestors. She came down reluctantly, cascading first on the head of Shiva in order to break her fall, which would have shattered the Earth. Confluences are particularly holy, and the confluence of the Ganges with the Yamuna at Allahabad is the most sacred spot in India. Another river of importance is the Sarasvati, which loses itself in desert; it was personified as a goddess of eloquence and learning.
All major and many minor temples and sanctuaries have their own myths of how they were founded and what miracles were wrought there. The same is true of famous places of pilgrimage, usually at sacred spots near and in rivers; important among these are Vrindavana (Brindaban) on the Yamuna, which is held to be the scene of the youthful adventures of Krishna and the cowherd wives. Another such centre with its own myths is Gaya, especially sacred for the funerary rites that are held there. And there is no spot in Varanasi (Benares), along the Ganges, that is without its own mythical history. Srirangam, a temple town set in an island in the Kaveri River in Tamil Nadu, is considered to be heaven on earth (bhuloka vaikuntham). There are also many places sacred to followers of Vishnu, Shiva, or other deities.
Ganges River: ritual bathingRitual bathing in the Ganges River at Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India.Andrzej Wrotek (CC-BY-2.0) (A Britannica Publishing Partner)
Philosophical texts
Although the details of Indian philosophy, as it has been developed by professional philosophers, may be treated as a subject separate from Hinduism (see Indian philosophy), certain broad philosophical concepts were absorbed into the myths and rituals of Hindus and are best viewed as a component of the religious tradition. Mysticism
One of the major trends of Indian religious philosophy is mysticism. This term can be misleading, however, as it can evoke Western, and particularly Christian, notions of religious experience, practice, and ends. Nevertheless, many scholars of religion have long used such concepts to study Hinduism and to interpret it for Western students. The desire for union of the self with something greater than the self, whether that is defined as a principle that pervades the universe or as a personal God, is one sense in which Hinduism has a “mystical” dimension. Yet, while Hindu mysticism at one extreme is the realization of the identity of the individual self with the impersonal principle called brahman (the position of the Vedanta school of Indian philosophy), at the other extreme it is the intensive devotionalism to a personal God that is found in the bhakti (devotional) groups.
Most Hindu mystical thought displays four common features. First, it is based on experience: the state of realization, whatever it is called, is both knowable and communicable, and the systems are all designed to teach people how to reach it. It is not, in other words, pure speculation. Second, it has as its goal the release of the spirit-substance of the individual from its prison in matter, whether matter is considered real or illusory. Third, many systems recognize the importance or the necessity of the control of the mind and body as a means of realization; sometimes this takes the form of extreme asceticism and mortification, and sometimes it takes the form of the cultivation of mind and body in order that their energies may be properly channeled. Finally, at the core of Hindu mystical thought is the functional principle that knowing is being. Thus, knowledge is something more than analytical categorizing: it is total understanding. This understanding can be purely intellectual, and some schools equate the final goal with omniscience, as does Yoga. But understanding can also mean total transformation: if one truly knows something, one is that thing. Thus, in the devotional schools, the goal of the devotee is to transform into a being who, in eternity, is in immediate and loving relationship to the deity. But despite the fact that these are both ways of knowing, some consider the difference between them to be significant. In the first instance, the individual has the responsibility to train and use his own intellect. The love relationship of the second, on the other hand, is one of dependence, and the deity assists the devotee through grace. Thus, some theological schools emphasize self-control, while others stress devotion and divine grace. Still other teachers say that the devotee should not exert himself to control his mind; rather, with meditation his consciousness will naturally try to transcend itself and reach a blissful state. In fact, some Shrivaishnava theologians have said that one should simply consent to the reception of divine grace and not assume any responsibility in the scheme of salvation; others within this tradition have emphasized the importance of bhakti understood as active self-surrender to Vishnu and Lakshmi. The distinction between these two visions of salvation is illustrated by the analogy of the cat and the monkey. The cat carries her young in her mouth, and thus the kitten has no responsibility. But the young monkey must cling by its own strength to its mother’s back. Philosophical sutras and the rise of the Six Schools of philosophy