In the Śrī Śiva Aṣṭottara Śatanāmāvali, one of the names is “Om Pūṣa-dantabhidē Namaḥ.” Pūṣa is a name of the Sun God. After all, it is the Sun who nourishes the entire world. Then why did Parameśwara break the teeth of such a nourisher like the Sun?
We all know the story from Daksha Yajña. When Satī Devi immolated herself in the sacrificial fire, Lord Shiva, assuming a fierce form as Vīrabhadra, destroyed the sacrifice and severed Daksha’s head. On that occasion, Vīrabhadra also punished the other gods who were present there. Since they silently witnessed adharma and injustice happening before their eyes and chose to remain indifferent—thinking, “They are big people; why should we interfere?”—they too had to undergo punishment. As part of that punishment, the Sun’s teeth were knocked out.
That is why, on Ratha Saptami or on other Sundays in the month of Māgha, when sweet rice (paramānnam) is prepared as an offering to the Sun God, it is cooked without any hard ingredients (not even cashew nuts).
The scripture says:
“Kartā kārayitā chaiva prērakaścha anumōdakaḥ
Sukṛtaṁ duṣkṛtaṁ chaiva chatvāraḥ samabhāginaḥ.”
When a good deed or a bad deed is performed, four people equally share its result: the one who does it, the one who causes it to be done, the one who instigates it, and the one who approves of it. Therefore, when a virtuous act is being performed, even if we cannot actively participate, at least rejoicing in it earns us merit. Similarly, when a sinful act is taking place, if we do not have the power to stop it, we should call upon those who can, or at least remove ourselves from that place. If we remain there as silent spectators, we too become participants in that punishment.
In the Mahābhārata, during Sri Krishna’s peace mission (Rāyabāra episode), the Lord warns Bhīṣma and Droṇa:
When pure truth and dharma are oppressed by sin and injustice, and those who are capable of preventing it choose to ignore it, the harm falls upon them. However, the Divine always stands ready to uphold truth and righteousness.
Though the elders knew that the Kauravas were on the side of adharma, they supported them and consequently suffered punishment. They clung to their personal duty (svadharma) while neglecting the higher duty of universal welfare (viśeṣa dharma). On the other hand, to uphold this higher dharma, Sri Krishna even set aside His personal vow of not wielding weapons and was prepared to launch the Sudarshana Chakra at Bhīṣma.
Truth never changes. But dharma varies according to time and place. Protecting one’s life and family may be one’s duty; yet, for the sake of the nation, a village may have to be sacrificed; for the sake of the village, a family; and for the sake of the family, even an individual. This is the subtlety of dharma.
However, if injustice and unrighteousness occur before our very eyes, and we justify the wrongdoer merely because he belongs to our family, caste, religion, language, or state—or at least refrain from condemning him—we too must share in the consequences.
Under the influence of Kali Yuga, narrow-minded identities have grown so strong in our country that society has reached a stage where even great souls of the past are insulted simply because they do not align with our present ideology. Like in the story of the wolf and the lamb—where the wolf says, “If not you, then your father or grandfather muddied my water,” and devours the lamb—today people justify punishing innocent individuals for injustices committed centuries ago by someone loosely connected through caste or religion.
But dharma has nothing to do with such superficial distinctions. In the Mahābhārata itself, both Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas belonged to the same nation, religion, caste, and even the same family. Yet one side became the embodiment of dharma and the other of adharma.
Then the question arises: what is dharma? In Hindi, the word “dharma” is sometimes used to mean religion. But what true dharma is, the Mahābhārata itself explains:
“That which causes pain to you if done by others—
O noble one, do not do that to others.
Refraining from such actions
Is the highest among all paths of dharma.”
The Mahābhārata declares that the greatest dharma is simply this: do not do to others what causes pain to you.
Even Lord Rama gave several opportunities for peace before waging war against Ravana, who abducted his wife. Likewise, the Pandavas offered many chances for reconciliation before fighting the Kauravas who usurped their kingdom and insulted Draupadi. Even during the war, they welcomed enemies who chose to join their side. After the war, they honored the fallen foes and performed proper rites to grant them noble afterlife.
But those who, driven by narrow caste or religious prejudices, unjustly harm others and insult great souls cannot escape punishment at the hands of Parameśwara—the supreme symbol of equality toward all beings. Likewise, those who directly or indirectly encourage such wrongdoing, or remain silent spectators, too will not escape consequences—their teeth, metaphorically, will also fall out. Not opposing injustice is in itself injustice too.
