Markandeya Tells Yudhishthira About the Great Flood

The fire crackled. The night was deep. Yudhishthira leaned forward.

Yudhishthira: "They say you've seen the end of the world, sage. Is that true?"

Markandeya's eyes went distant.

Markandeya: "I've seen it many times. Every kalpa, the universe ends. Every kalpa, it begins again."

Yudhishthira: "What is it like? The end?"

Markandeya: "Vast. And strangely peaceful. First, the rains stop. Not for a season—forever. The rivers dry. The trees wither. The earth cracks open, begging for water that will never come."

Yudhishthira: "How long does this take?"

Markandeya: "Centuries. Then the opposite happens. Clouds gather—not ordinary clouds, but clouds the size of mountains. They rain without stopping. For a hundred years. A thousand. The oceans rise. Mountains disappear. Everything that was ever built, ever created, ever loved—all of it sinks beneath the waves."

Yudhishthira: "And people?"

Markandeya: "Gone. All gone. But I floated. I alone, by Vishnu's grace, survived to witness. I swam in an ocean that had no shore. No sun, no stars, no sound except water. Just endless, endless water."

Yudhishthira shuddered.

Yudhishthira: "How did you not go mad?"

Markandeya: "I nearly did. Time stops meaning anything when there's nothing to measure it against. Days? Years? Centuries? All the same. I was alone in a way that would break most minds."

Yudhishthira: "What saved you?"

Markandeya: "I found something. A banyan tree, impossibly floating. And on one of its leaves, a child. A baby, sucking his toe, laughing at the waves."

Yudhishthira: "A child? In the flood that ended the world?"

Markandeya: "Not a child. The Child. Vishnu himself, as a baby, containing all of creation within him. He smiled at me. And then he opened his mouth and inhaled me. Swallowed me whole."

Yudhishthira: "Swallowed—"

Markandeya: "And inside him, I saw everything. Every world. Every being. Every moment of every life that had ever been lived. The universe wasn't destroyed—it was contained. Waiting. Resting inside the divine until it was time to begin again."

Yudhishthira: "And then?"

Markandeya: "He exhaled. And I was back in the ocean. And slowly, so slowly, the waters receded. Land emerged. Life returned. Creation began again, just as it had begun before."

Yudhishthira: "Why are you telling me this?"

Markandeya: "Because you're about to face your own flood. This war that's coming—it will feel like the end of everything. You will lose people you love. You will see destruction beyond imagining. You will float in an ocean of grief with no shore in sight."

Yudhishthira: "And then?"

Markandeya: "And then the waters recede. They always do. Creation begins again. Not the same as before—never the same—but new. Different. Perhaps better. Survive the flood, Yudhishthira. That's all. Just survive. The universe will rebuild itself around you."

Yudhishthira: "How do I survive something like that?"

Markandeya: "The same way I did. Keep swimming. Keep looking for the child on the leaf. Keep believing that inside the destruction, creation is waiting."

Yudhishthira: "And if I can't find faith?"

Markandeya: "Then float anyway. Faith is not required—only endurance. The waters will recede whether you believe or not."