Previous Life
Once there was a temple priest who was a staunch devotee of Lord Shiva. He used to do Pooja to Lord Shiva's feet (Shiva Paada Pooje) every day. After finishing his Pooja and closing the temple premises, the priest brought prasadha (food from the temple which is first offered to the lord) for a dog which waited outside the temple. As dogs symbolise loyalty, the dog used to accompany the priest till he reached home every day and only ate food offered by this priest. The priest had great affection towards the dog as well.
On one new moon day (Amavasya), after some delay in finishing his temple duties, the priest shut the temple premises and walked out fast to offer food for the dog. Because it was a dark night, the priest accidentally walked over the dogs face. Every dog's nature is to attack anyone who attacks it. The dog instantaneously bit the priest before it could realise that the person it bit was the priest whom the dog admired. Albeit getting bit by the dog, the priest offered the dog the prasadha. The dog, regretting its previous action, did not accept the food. The dog never ate anything after the incident and died in front of the same Shiva temple. The gods, seeing this great gesture of loyalty from the dog, awarded the post of the sun (Surya) with the name Vivasvan. Many years later, the priest had also died in memory of the dog. In his next life, this Brahmin priest took birth as a king at the land of Vidarbha with the name Bhishmaka. The position he attained in this birth is attributed to all the Shiva Paada Pooje (worshipping lord Shiva's feet) that was performed by the Brahmin priest.
Read more about this topic: Bhishmaka
Famous quotes containing the words previous and/or life:
“All we know
Is that we are a little early, that
Today has that special, lapidary
Todayness that the sunlight reproduces
Faithfully in casting twig-shadows on blithe
Sidewalks. No previous day would have been like this.”
—John Ashbery (b. 1927)
“I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back any more—the feeling that I could last for ever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men; the deceitful feeling that lures us on to joys, to perils, to love, to vain effort—to death; the triumphant conviction of strength, the heat of life in the handful of dust, the glow in the heart that with every year grows dim, grows cold, grows small, and expires—and expires, too soon, too soon—before life itself.”
—Joseph Conrad (1857–1924)