An excerpt from the Shiv Purana
Narada, the Wandering Sage, once sat in deep meditation. As was often the case when someone performed such intense penance, Indra, the king of the devas got worried. He had no idea what Rishi's intent behind his penance was and feared that it might be aimed at claiming his throne. Unsure, Indra sent forth the god of desire, Kama Deva or Manmathan, to distract Narada with his charms despite being aware of Narada's adherence to Brahmacharya, or celibacy.
As he was called for his part, Kama enthusiastically attempted to entice Narada. He transformed the barren mountain upon which the sage sat into a grove of warm, fragrant air, the snow into musical fountains, and the scrubs into floral vines. It took an ascetic with great determination to resist him.
When the sage did not open his eyes, Kama resorted to his best bet - his potent floral arrows shot from his sugarcane bow - which had momentarily seduced even Shiva!
Kamdeva, shot the arrow directly at Narada's chest, where the sage's heart housed. And lo behold Narada did not even open his eyes, let alone try to resist. Defeated, Kama fell at his feet and begged for forgiveness. Narada, at last, opened his eyes and was amused to find Kama prostrated before him. Upon hearing Kama recount Narada's greatness, the sage's heart swelled with pride.
Narada soon headed straight for Kailasa, Shiva's abode, to boast about his achievement. "You have humbled me, for I am no longer the lone tamer of Kama!" said Shiva. He continued with a mischievous smile, "But do not speak about this to Harideva."
Why would Shiva ask him not to share his momentous achievement with Vishnu, of Whom he was a sworn lifelong devotee? It made no sense to the bemused and little miffed Narada, who disregarded Shiva's words and excitedly made haste towards Vaikuntha.
There, Vishnu, curling His lips in an all-knowing smirk, greeted, "Narada muni! What brings you to me?" Narada eagerly narrated the incident to him (with a fair bit of exaggeration), brimming with excitement. "Even the Great God, Mahadeva Shiva, acknowledges me as His superior!" he said, oblivious to the fact that Vishnu was pulling his leg, for he already knew all that went on in the worlds.
Vishnu simply nodded, his expression calm and nonchalant. Narada, however, felt disappointed at the lack of a heartier response. This was not something he had expected. Shiva feeling envious was understandable. But Vishnu?! He concluded that he was probably superior in some aspect to even Vishnu, or why else would someone not openly laud his achievement? Narada bid farewell with his customary parting "Narayana! Narayana!" laced with mockery.
Hari Leela
Still yearning for recognition, Narada descended to Prithviloka, the mortal realm. King Sheelanidhi warmly welcomed him by saying, "It is my great honour to host Narada, the wisest among the sages, master of desire, visit my humble realm. "
The king then invited him to grace and bless the upcoming Swayamvara (bridal selection ceremony) of his daughter, Srimati.
Narada was captivated by the extraordinary beauty of Srimati, his daughter, and found her the most beautiful woman. It took him every ounce of concentration to appear unaffected by the flames of desire burning his innards away. After careful deliberation, the sage decided to participate in the swayamvara himself, hoping to win her hand.
Desperate to appear worthy of Srimati, Narada fervently prayed to Harideva. God appeared before him asking, "Speak. What do you desire for which you have chosen to propitiate Me." Overwhelmed by his newfound hubris, Narada expressed his wish in grandiose Sanskrit verses, asking for a countenance resembling Hari's. Vishnu granted his wish with a simple "Tathāstu" (So be it).
Srimati's Swayamvara was attended by kings and princes from far and wide. Finally, Srimati entered the hall - every pair of eyes upon her, scores of breaths drawn but never released.
Confident in his appearance, Narada carrying his signature veena stood last in line, certain that no mere mortal could match his divine qualities or the face of Shyam Sundara Hari that he now wore. As Srimati walked past the assembled suitors, rejecting each in turn, Narada’s heart brimmed with anticipation. What chance did they stand against him?
She looked at each suitor, rejecting them one by one, until, at last, she reached him, Narada could see her lowered eyes glance up at him, catching his reflection. For a brief moment, her expression lit up with a mischievous, knowing smile before she looked down again and moved on.
As she stepped past him toward the next person, his world collapsed. It didn’t even register that no one was behind him—he was the last in line. Nor did it matter that she had rejected him. What mattered was the face he had glimpsed in her eyes: not the radiant face of Vishnu, nor even his own—but the face of a monkey.
Furious and humiliated, Narada knew who must have been behind him without even looking back. Srimati, the woman he had blessed himself, had placed her garland around none other than Hari—Vishnu himself!
He realized Vishnu had tricked him. Rage boiled within him, and he prepared to curse Vishnu for this betrayal. Words formed on his lips but before he could utter them, just then he heard a voice from behind—calm and familiar.
“Narada.”
Or was it coming from in front of him? It seemed to come from everywhere—behind him, in front of him, within him. He closed his eyes and ears, trying to lose his senses and shut out the world.
“Narada,” the voice echoed again.
He opened his eyes. Before him stood Vishnu, wearing the same garland Srimati had been holding. Beside him was Srimati, but she looked somewhat different, more like a Goddess now - it was the familiar Lakshmi Devi, her divine form radiating with grace. He found himself no longer in a mortal kingdom but standing in Vaikuntha. Anantha Sesha, the cosmic serpent's vast expanse lay coiled upon the Ksheera Sagara, the tranquil Ocean of Milk and upon it rested Vishnu and Sree. A divine light shimmered all around them. It was only then that he realized. Of course! Yogamaya.
Vishnu smiled kindly and said, “Narada, I accept your curse. One day, I will indeed need the help of monkeys, akin to what you saw yourself in.” Narada lowered his gaze in shame, for this was precisely the curse he had intended to pronounce.
Then, with a twinkle in his eye, Vishnu asked, “But tell me, dear sage—how did it feel to cast aside your Brahmacharya and fall prey to desire?”
Narada was speechless. His inflated ego was subdued. His supposed triumph over Kama Deva was meaningless in the face of his vanity and pride. Everything—the kingdom, Sheelanidhi, Srimati—reality as the sage perceived had been an illusion crafted by Vishnu’s Yogamaya to teach him humility.
The truth behind his downfall lay in his own words. When he asked for a face like Hari, he assumed it would be the divine face of Vishnu. Yet, Hari in Sanskrit can also mean “monkey.” Vishnu had chosen to interpret the alternate meaning, setting in motion the events that led to Narada’s rejection and humiliation.
Narada now realized that straying from one’s path—no matter how briefly—invited karmic consequences. His desire to win Srimati, born from pride, had brought about his downfall. Vishnu’s playful leela was a reminder to remain ever-vigilant, free from snares of ego and attachment.
With a heart full of remorse and newfound clarity, humbled and embarrassed, Narada bowed before Vishnu. He left Vaikuntha chanting “Narayana, Narayana,” this time with genuine reverence and devotion.
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