He returns to his human form, smiling. Because the greatest mystery is not the cosmic form, but why the cosmic chooses to hide inside the ordinary. “Seeing this wonderful, terrible form of yours, the worlds tremble in fear, and so do I.” —
Haasan uses the ancient metaphor to explore the duality of the modern man. The protagonist, Wisam Ahmad Kashmiri, is a living Vishwaroopam. To his American wife, he is a gentle, effeminate Bharatanatyam dancer. To the world of counter-terrorism, he is a lethal, calculating killing machine. Within one body exist infinite, contradictory identities: the artist and the assassin, the husband and the spy. vishwaroopam
It is not merely a scene from an ancient text. It is the most ambitious visual concept ever conceived by the human imagination: a single body containing every star, every demon, every god, every screaming soldier, and every silent atom. In Chapter 11 of the Bhagavad Gita, Arjuna, the great archer, asks Krishna to show his divine form. What he expects is a four-armed, benevolent deity holding a conch and a discus. What he gets is an apocalypse. He returns to his human form, smiling
In the heart of the Bhagavad Gita, on the eve of the greatest war in human history, a moment occurs that transcends theology and enters the realm of pure cosmic horror and beauty. A chariot driver, who is also the Supreme Being, reveals to his mortal friend what he truly is. This is the Vishwaroopam —the Universal Form. The protagonist, Wisam Ahmad Kashmiri, is a living
Krishna famously says in the Gita: "I am all-devouring Time, grown old, come forth to destroy the worlds."