Surya, the Sun God

Before the sun rises, the gate of a Cham tower already faces east, waiting. The air is still dark. The stone is still cold. Then the first thread of light touches the threshold of the sanctuary.

The Cham are a people of south-central Vietnam whose ancestors lived in the ancient kingdom of Champa. The builders of their towers, a thousand years ago, did not place the doors by chance. Researchers say the people of that time believed the first light had to be welcomed straight into the sanctuary. It was their way of greeting Surya, the sun god, each day as he returned from the east.

Surya is a god found on the oldest pages of Hindu scripture.

He has many names. He is Aditya, child of the endless sky. He is Savitri, the giver of life. He is Vivasvan, the radiant one. Whatever the name, he is one: the sun that rises every morning and shines on all living things, asking nothing in return. In the Rig Veda, one of the oldest scriptures of humankind, Surya is praised as the source of light that gives life to everything.

Every dawn, Surya appears on a golden chariot called Ratha, drawn by seven horses known as the Sapta Ashva. The horses each have a color of their own. They stand for the seven colors of light, the colors of the rainbow that shows when the rain ends and the sun comes out.

The charioteer is Aruna, the god of the dawn, elder brother of Garuda, the divine eagle. Whenever the sky turns pink before the sun appears, that is Aruna arriving first to clear the road.

Surya sits in the chariot. In each hand he holds a lotus flower, a symbol of purity that rises from the mud and stays free of dust.

But the most lasting story about Surya is not about the golden chariot. It is about his love.

In Hindu legend, Surya married Sanjana, the daughter of Vishvakarma, the divine architect. Sanjana loved Surya, but his light was so fierce that she could not open her eyes, and the heat of his body wore her out. It was not that she lacked love. Her body could not bear it. This was her real limit, not weakness and not disloyalty.

One morning Surya woke, and sunlight still filled the room. But Sanjana was no longer there. Before leaving, she had set Chhaya, her own shadow, in her place, so that Surya would not be alone. Then she walked away.

Time passed. Surya lived beside Chhaya without knowing she was not the real Sanjana. Then one day he felt the difference. It hurt him, but he was not angry. He understood that the wife he loved had gone because she could not bear it, not because she did not want to stay.

He set out to find Sanjana.

And when he found her, Surya did something that only a person who truly loves can do. He was willing to become smaller.

Vishvakarma placed Surya on his grinding wheel and ground away one eighth of his light. It was just enough for Sanjana to stand beside her husband without being dazzled. With the light softened, Sanjana came home. According to some of the Purana scriptures, the pieces of light ground from Surya were used to make divine weapons. Even the part cut away from him was not wasted.

Surya is the sun. Shining is his nature. And yet he was willing to become smaller.

Surya has several famous children. Yama, who rules the realm of the dead and judges with fairness, is his son. Karna, the tragic hero of the epic Mahabharata, also carries Surya's blood. He fought to his last breath though the whole world turned its back on him. The twin Ashvins, two gods of medicine and healing, are his children too.

Today, millions of people practice Surya Namaskar at every dawn. They face east and greet the sun with twelve postures. It is a thanks given in movement.

Each morning, when the sun rises behind a Cham tower, that is Surya coming home.