According to the Mahabharata, there was a time when there was no death. Creation was the big thing, and a fiery god created and created things until the universe was packed. Until even he had to admit he’d overdone it.

Stubbing his toe for the (literally) millionth time on one of his creations he got so angry he caught fire and began to burn all the beautiful creatures he had made. And they just kept smiling through the flames as they burned and didn’t turn to ash because there was no such thing as death.

And the whole universe burning and smiling it was getting pretty hot and uncomfortable and the other gods came and said “It’s about time we had a clear-out.” But the creator-god couldn’t bring himself to throw anything away.

“Well at least stop being on fire then.”

So he cooled down and when he did the flames turned into a woman called Death.

“Death,” he said. “It’s your job to clear all this away.”

But she didn’t want to destroy anything any more than he did, so she ran away and stood on one foot for 35 billion years in the most impressive show of asceticism the universe has ever seen.

And the god sought her out but she wasn’t ready to be found. She couldn’t face the task for which she’d been created. And why should she? Having stood here, perfectly still, for so many billion years she’d proven she was capable of higher things than tidying up after a fiery old god.

But the god eventually got his way. Though she refused to obey, and wept at the very thought of destroying anything, the cruel god transformed her tears so that they now cause disease wherever they fall, and cause things to perish. And she couldn’t stop weeping for the injustice and for everything that would be lost. And the tears fell. And death became a reality in the world as they fell and quenched the flames and caused every smile to fade.

(I’ve been reading Hindu Myths by Wendy Doniger. The image is from Pixabay)