One of the oldest heroic narratives ever recorded Between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, in the land called Mesopotamia, in the brick city of Erech, lived Gilgamesh, a king who was two-thirds god and one-third man. His love of war meant no son was left to any father and his love for pleasure meant no woman was left for any husband. The people of the city begged the gods create someone to distract their king so that they may have rest. So the gods created Enkidu, a wild man, who lived with the beasts in the forest, running with gazelles and drinking with lions. News of this wild man reached Gilgamesh who ordered a prostitute to seduce the man away from his wild ways and bring him to the city. This was done and in the city square Gilgamesh fought Enkidu, like two lions fighting over territory. And Enkidu was without doubt, Gilgamesh agreed grudgingly, a match for him. Respect turned to fondness and soon Gilgamesh and Enkidu were the best of friends, drinking and eating together and sleeping on each others' chest, even going on great adventures like the one to the Cedar forest where they killed the monster Humbaba. <img alt="" src="/imagedata/2009/aug/0908DEVLOK.jpg" border="0" /> The goddess of love, Ishtar, fell in love with Gilgamesh and urged him to be her consort. "No," said Gilgamesh, for the lovers of the goddess met with terrible fate always. Had she not turned the shepherd into a wolf, to be chased by his own dogs? Had she not turned the gardener into a bat? Had she not taken the claws of the lion and the mane of the stallion? No, Gilgamesh had no desire to be lover to a goddess. Scorned, Ishtar sent a divine bull to destroy Erech. And the bull would surely have destroyed the city had not Enkidu stopped and killed it first. But the horns of Ishtar's bull gored Enkidu's thigh and it was soon filled with pus. His body burned with fever and venom entered his blood and, to the horror of Gilgamesh, before long his only friend on earth, his dear companion, Enkidu, was dead. Will I die too, Gilgamesh wondered. "Yes, like all men," is what he heard. Have all men died, he asked. "Yes, all died," he heard, "All except Ut-Naphishtim. He survived the great flood and he alone is a human who lives forever on the other shore, in Dilmun, the land of the gods." Gilgamesh decided to go to this one immortal man and learn from him the secret of immortality. He left his city and embarked on this great quest, and despite the warnings of the scorpion man walked the road to the land of the setting son through a vast tunnel never before crossed by any living man. On the way he met Siduri, the cupbearer of the gods and she said, "Why seek immortality? Eat, sing and enjoy wine and woman while you can. For you will die. It is the will of the gods that man shall be mortal and they immortal so that man shall forever fear and worship them." But Gilgamesh was determined to reach the land of the gods across the great sea. So Siduri introduced him to the boatman who, after great persuasion, agreed to ferry the mighty hero across the sea of death. The journey was perilous but they succeeded, because of Gilgamesh's quick thinking; he used his clothes as a sail so that wind carried them across much faster than the boatman's oar. Across the sea, in the land of Dilmun, Gilgamesh met the only immortal man who lived with the gods, Utnaphistim. And Utnaphistim informed him of a herb that grows at the bottom of the sea. Gilgamesh plunged into the sea, procured the herb and happily returned to the land of man with the herb that would make all humans immortal. But alas, that was not to be. Tired as he was, he left the herb on the ground and went to bathe in a fresh water spring and a serpent stole the herb, which is why only serpents can shed old skin and retain their youth for long. In despair Gilgamesh wailed and waited for the time when he too would die and join his friend Enkidu in the gloomy land where all the dead reside and there is nothing to eat but dust. Disclaimer &gt; This column attempts to explain sacred beliefs in the spirit of genuine and respectful curiosity without claiming any authority on the same.

One of the oldest heroic narratives ever recorded

Two-thirds god

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Two-thirds god

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