Snehashree is a content creator by profession and writer by passion. She is a storyteller, poet, and abstract artist besides being a content writer. She has published her works of poetry on Amazon and several online magazines. She moved into full time writing after spending a few years in the healthcare industry. A solivagant and an ardent animal lover, she regularly crafts interesting articles for her blog - TST.
When not writing, she can be found reciting poetries in poetry clubs, teaching kids the art of poetry, and reading avidly. You could visit her website and chat with her on Instagram.
There is a tale I heard and it is about what the trident of Shivay means?
Usually, as we all know, the trident is a weapon the God uses to resolve all the issues.
It was a hot summer afternoon and my school holidays were on.
In our times, we just had tv and radio.
So like every summer, this summer I went off for three weeks. I was free to roam around and an old man was carrying a similar trident and moving swiftly on the road.
No one seemed to pay him any attention but I found it very odd.
Soon after I began following him when I saw a bunch of men also caught up on him.
He nodded at them as though he knew them.
So I took a step back and tried following them.
The road was the longest and the most arduous, I had ever walked and he slithered like a snake on those tough terrains while I huffed and puffed moving down and climbing up.
But then, I saw he lived in a tent and the tent was spacious and huge and big and colourful as I could assess from the outside.
But then the man stopped short on his way and turned and I was the only one in that road apart from the four lads behind him.
“What do you want girl?”
I was sliding down the road due to its dust, and round pelts covering the road and was now closer to them than I realized.
“…I ……I have no bad intent…I just saw your trident and was curious why you carry it? So I followed to ask but I could never catch up.”
The man laughed, “I see, it’s a family heirloom.”
“Family heirloom, well, I see no family.” I could see noone around, I looked around.
“Well, I had a family once. It is a trident.”
“So it’s your weapon right?” I had taken two more steps towards them.
“It’s not a weapon, it’s a reminder.” He smiled.
He beckoned me to follow him.
With a bunch on top of his head, and silvery streaks flowing from all ends, he had a calm face and red, dusty clothes.
“A reminder that you belong to the family of dash dash…” I wanted an answer perhaps. When we are young, we are flowing with ideas.
He looked back and when I caught up, he said.
“The trident became a Hindu symbol when the religion was formed for the first time. Before that for Shiva, it was a reminder that this is a 3 dimensional world with each dimension being equal to another in every way. A reminder that he was now part of the 3D world.”
“It ain’t any weapon then?”
He nodded, “No, it is not. It is also, but it is a reminder that we are all part of the 3D world where each dimensional being is equal to the beings from the other dimensions. The language the Gods used long back was the stick language. The language that was easy to learn for everyone who came from three different dimensions.”
“How do we know who is from which dimensions?”
“It’s easy, the trees are from dimension 1 and also tree like people are from there…the ones born in the current months of January, April, July, and October.
The next follows suit.”
“Does it mean one is superior to the other?”
“Shivay knew that’s how human psyche would work hence he devised a reminder but do we follow it today? No. Since long back there began a clash between the individuals of the three dimensions and people altogether changed the meaning of the trident and also its use.”
“What is the difference or how do you identify it?”
“They have traits that match each of their original species. But, now every other one is cross mated with the others to improve the races and to keep people away from identifying all these.”
“Is this the origin of men?” I asked.
“Come, have some water. This is one part of the origin of men. There are other mysteries. But to know it, you must read my book.” He smiled.
“So should you.” I tell you.
Discover more from WriterSnehashree
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
