Vyasa-Katha: Fables from the Mahabharata

By Nityananda Misra

We have all read Aesop's fables, Jataka tales, and the Panchatantra or Hitopadesha stories. But what about the fables from the Mahabharata? We know about the human characters, but do we know about the clever jackal, the hypocrite swan, the smart mouse, the evil cat, the lazy camel, the arrogant tree, the faithful parrot or the astonishing mongoose in Vyasa's great epic?

Vyasa-Katha presents fifty-one fables from the Mahabharata. These fascinating and instructive fables are a treasure-trove of practical and political wisdom, moral values, universal truths and philosophy. Animals, birds, reptiles, fish, insects, trees, rivers, directions, life forces, death and time intriguingly teach ancient Indian wisdom. With vivid descriptions and colourful expressions, the fables exemplify the advanced art of storytelling in ancient India.

Author Nityananda Misra contextualises the fables and presents a faithful and unabridged translation. Carrying insights from Nilakantha's commentary and numerous Indian texts, with a beautiful collection of twenty-four illustrations, this is a must-read for children and adults alike.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Jan 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9789354355660

Book preview

1

The King and the Dogs

Parvan: Adi-parvan

Upaparvan: Paushya-parvan

Adhyaya: I.3

PROLOGUE

Once Ugrashravas Sauti arrived at the twelve-year yajna of Rishi Shaunaka in the Naimisha forest. Many rishis and tapasvins were present there. When asked where he had come from, Sauti answered that he had been to King Janamejaya’s sarpa-satra, where Vaishampayana had narrated various kathas of the Mahabharata. The rishis said they wanted to hear the Mahabharata from Sauti. Sauti started by describing the Mahabharata in brief. He then narrated to the rishis the katha of Janamejaya and the dogs.

KATHA

NCE upon a time, Janamejaya, the son of Parikshit, took part in a prolonged yajna at Kurukshetra with his brothers. His three brothers were Shrutasena, Ugrasena and Bhimasena. As they sat in that yajna, there came a dog—a son of Sarama. The brothers of Janamejaya beat him up. Crying profusely, he went to his mother, Sarama.

The mother asked him, who was crying heavily, Why are you crying? Who beat you up?

Questioned thus, he replied to his mother, I was beaten up by the brothers of Janamejaya.

The mother responded to him, Surely you must have done something wrong there due to which you were beaten up!

He again spoke to her, I did nothing wrong! I did not look at the oblations, nor did I lick them.¹

Hearing this, his mother Sarama was distressed on account of her son’s pain. She came with him to that session where Janamejaya was sitting in the prolonged yajna with his three brothers.

An angry Sarama said to Janamejaya, This is my son. He did not commit any offence. He did not look at the oblations or lick them. Why was he beaten up?

Janamejaya and his brothers said nothing at all.

She said to them, As you beat up this son of mine who had not harmed you, therefore an unexpected danger will befall you.

Cursed thus by Sarama, the bitch of the devas, Janamejaya was extremely scared and despondent. After the yajna was complete, he returned to Hastinapura and made his best efforts to search for a suitable purohita who would calm the kritya² of his paapa.

EPILOGUE

Janamejaya appointed Somashravas, the son of Rishi Shrutashravas and a female serpent, as his purohita. Somashravas was capable of calming all krityas, except the kritya of Shiva. Janamejaya brought him to his palace and told his three brothers that he had chosen Somashravas as his purohita. Janamejaya ordered his brothers to carry out the instructions of Somashravas without thinking. The brothers did what they were told. The rites performed by Somashravas negated the curse of Sarama.

LESSONS

Nilakantha says that the katha teaches us that inflicting any violence on an innocent being instantly brings misery to the wrongdoer. As Bhishma tells Yudhishthira in the Mahabharata (XII.272.20), ahimsa is dharma and himsa is adharma.

The conduct of Sarama is also worth learning from. She first asked Janamejaya the reason why his brothers beat up her son. It was only when she received no answer from Janamejaya (an admission of guilt), did she curse him and his brothers.

No wrong act goes unpunished. Though Janamejaya got rid of the unexpected danger due to the powers of Somashravas, he still suffered an unexpected trauma when he accidentally learned from Uttanka and his ministers that his father Parikshit had been killed by Naga Takshaka. Janamejaya was extremely distressed on hearing this. He had never known how his father had died. He told his ministers that he could not get peace until he knew everything about his father’s death. When his ministers told him in detail how his father was bitten by Takshaka, Janamejaya drowned in grief and wept.³ His brothers must have experienced a similar agony. Under Janamejaya’s watch, his brothers unexpectedly inflicted physical pain on a dog. Later, Janamejaya and his brothers suffered unexpected mental trauma, even after Sarama’s curse was negated by Somashravas. Indeed, as the Bhagavadgita says (4.17), the ways of karma are difficult to understand. Mirabai also says in one of her songs, O saints! The ways of karma are unusual.

2

The Brahmin and the Snake I

Parvan: Adi-parvan

Upaparvan: Pauloma-parvan

Adhyayas: I.8–12

PROLOGUE

Shaunaka was a descendant of Rishi Bhrigu. For this reason, Shaunaka requested Sauti to narrate the account of Bhrigu’s race. Sauti told the assembled rishis and Shaunaka that Bhrigu was Brahma’s son, Bhrigu’s son was Chyavana, Chyavana’s son was Pramati, Pramati’s son was Ruru, Ruru’s son was Shunaka and Shunaka’s son was Shaunaka. In the course of the account of Bhrigu’s race, Sauti narrated the katha of Ruru and the dundubha snake.¹

KATHA

N the days of yore, there was a great rishi endowed with tapas and learning. He was known as Sthulakesha. He was engaged in the well-being of all creatures. In this very time, the gandharva king Vishvavasu and the apsara Menaka had a child. At the time she was due, Menaka gave birth to the child near Sthulakesha’s ashram. The pitiless and shameless apsara Menaka abandoned the infant on the riverside. The great and illustrious Rishi Sthulakesha saw the abandoned girl, resembling a child of the devas and radiating with splendour, without any caretaker, at a desolate spot. On sighting her, the great Brahmin Sthulakesha picked her up. The excellent rishi was filled with compassion. He nourished her and raised her. The beautiful girl grew in the holy place of his ashram. The most fortunate and illustrious Rishi Sthulakesha duly performed all the samskaras in the right sequence, starting from the jataka.² The girl was blessed with goodness, beauty and virtues. As she was superior to all women, the great rishi named her Pramadvara, ‘best among all women’.

Once, Ruru saw Pramadvara in the premises of the rishi’s ashram. The dharmatma Ruru was smitten by love. Through his friends, Ruru told his father Pramati Bhargava. And then, Pramati requested the illustrious Sthulakesha for Pramadvara. The father, Sthulakesha, gave his foster-daughter Pramadvara in marriage to Ruru, fixing the vivaha³ to be held in the next Uttara-Phalguni asterism.⁴

When a few days were left for the vivaha, that maiden of beautiful complexion was playing with her friends. She failed to see a snake, in deep sleep, spread obliquely in her way. Impelled by Kala, she was about to die. She trod on the snake. Following the law of Kala, the snake firmly sunk his venomous fangs in the body of the careless maiden. Thus bitten by the snake, she suddenly fell to the ground, and became pale and dull. Her finery was gone, and so was her consciousness. Her hair came loose. She became a cause of grief for her relatives. She, who was the most worthy of being seen, became painful to behold when devoid of life. Though killed by the snake’s venom, she appeared as if she was asleep on the ground. The slender lady was still very charming to look at.⁵

Her father and all other tapasvins saw her. The lady, with the lustre of lotus, lay motionless on the ground. Then, all the great Brahmins who lived in the forest—Svastyatreya, Mahajanu, Kushika, Shankhamekhala, Uddalaka, Katha, the illustrious Shveta, Bharadvaja, Kaunakutsa, Arshtishena, Gautama, Pramati with his son Ruru, and others—arrived there. They all were filled with compassion. When they saw the dead lady, killed by the snake’s venom, they were overwhelmed with pity and cried. Pained, Ruru went out of the ashram while all the other foremost Brahmins sat down right there.

As the mahatma Brahmins sat there, the distressed Ruru went inside a dense forest and wept. Devastated by grief, he cried mournfully for a long time. Remembering his beloved, he spoke these words with grief, My slender lady lies on the ground, increasing my grief and that of all her relatives. What can be more painful than this? If I have given charity, have performed tapas and have served my gurus well, then may my beloved come back to life. And if I have controlled my mind and followed my vows since my birth, then may the beautiful Pramadvara rise again. If my devotion to the all-pervading Krishna—the lord of the senses, the lord of the worlds and the enemy of asuras—is unwavering, may that beloved of mine live again.

As Ruru, pained by the loss of his to-be wife, wept profusely in this manner, a devaduta⁶ came there and said these words to Ruru in that forest, O Ruru! Whatever you say out of grief is in vain. O dharmatma! A mortal whose life is over cannot live again. The life of this poor daughter of a gandharva and an apsara is over. Son! Do not grieve in your heart in any way. In this regard, a way was devised earlier by the devas and the mahatmas. If you wish to follow it, you will get Pramadvara back here. Ruru said, O sky-traveller! What way was devised by the devas? Tell me truthfully. I will follow it after hearing it. Please save me from this grief. The devaduta said, O scion of Bhrigu! Give half of your life to the lady. In this way, your wife Pramadvara will rise again. Ruru said, O the best among sky-travellers! I hereby give half of my life to the lady. May my beloved rise again with her finery, beauty and jewellery.

Then the king of gandharvas⁷ and the devaduta, both noble beings, approached Dharma⁸ and spoke these words, The auspicious Pramadvara, wife of Ruru, is dead. If you permit, she may rise again with half of Ruru’s life. Dharma said, O devaduta! If you wish to revive Ruru’s wife Pramadvara, may she rise again with half of Ruru’s life. When Dharma said this, Pramadvara, the maiden of beautiful complexion, rose again with half of Ruru’s life as if she had just been asleep.

It was seen only in the destiny of Ruru, whose brilliance was excellent and life was long, that half of his life vanished for the sake of his wife. Then, on the desired day, Ruru and Pramadvara’s parents arranged their wedding. And the two, who were well-wishers of each other, were pleased.

Having obtained a wife who was hard to get and who was dazzling like the filaments of a lotus, Ruru—who was true to his vows—made a vow to destroy snakes. Whenever he saw any snake, he would be filled with extreme rage. With his full might, he would then strike the snake using his staff. Once, the Brahmin went into a large forest. There, he saw an old, non-venomous dundubha sleeping. Desirous of killing him, the enraged Brahmin raised his staff as if it was the staff of Kala. The dundubha said to him, O Brahmin, rich in tapas! I have not done you any harm. Why are you killing me then, in a fit of rage?

Ruru said, A snake bit my wife who was as dear to me as my life. O snake! I then took a terrible vow that I will always kill each and every snake I see. Therefore, I wish to kill you. Today, you will lose your life.

The dundubha said, O Brahmin! The snakes that bite humans in this world are different. You should not kill dundubhas just because they look like snakes. The dundubhas have the same misfortune as other snakes, but not the same fortune. They have the same afflictions as other snakes, but not the same pleasures. Being knowledgeable about dharma, you should not kill them.

After hearing the snake’s words and thinking he was a rishi agitated by fear, Ruru did not kill him. The fortunate Ruru said, as if pacifying him, O snake! Tell me in detail—who are you, who have fallen into this disfigured state?

The dundubha said, O Ruru! I was formerly a rishi by the name of Sahasrapat. I became a snake by the curse of a Brahmin.

Ruru asked, O best of snakes! Why did the Brahmin curse you in anger? And for how long will you be in this body?

The dundubha said, Respected sir! In old times, I had a friend—a Brahmin named Khagama. Though endowed with the power of tapas, he was extremely sharp-tongued. Once he was engaged in agnihotra. Playing a joke on him, I made a snake out of grass blades and scared him. He became unconscious. On regaining his consciousness, he was as if burning with anger. That truthful Brahmin, who was rich in tapas and faithful to his vows, said to me, ‘Just like you made this powerless snake with a desire to scare me, you will also become a powerless snake by my curse.’ O Ruru, rich in tapas! I knew the power of his tapas. With an extremely anxious heart, I bowed to him out of fear and then stood in front of him with folded hands. I then said to him, ‘O friend! I did this impulsively to play a joke on you. O Brahmin! Please forgive me. Please take back this curse.’ The Brahmin, rich in tapas, saw that I was extremely anxious. Very agitated and exhaling heavily, he said, ‘What I have said will not be untrue in any way. You are rich in tapas and bereft of paapa. Listen to what I tell you, and then always remember this in your heart. A pious son named Ruru will be born to Pramati. After seeing him, you will be freed from this curse in no time.’ It seems you are that renowned Ruru, as you are also the son of Pramati. Today, I will regain my own form and then speak for your benefit.

The illustrious Sahasrapat, foremost among Brahmins, abandoned the form of a dundubha and once again obtained his resplendent natural form. And Sahasrapat said these words to the incomparably radiant Ruru, "O best among all living beings! Ahimsa is the supreme dharma. Therefore, a Brahmin must never and nowhere inflict himsa on any living being. The supreme Vedas say that a Brahmin is ever kind, knowledgeable about Vedas and Vedangas, and a provider of abhaya⁹ to all living beings. It is certain that ahimsa, speaking the truth, forgiveness and learning the Vedas constitute the supreme dharma for Brahmins. It is not desirable for you to follow the dharma of a Kshatriya. The karma of a Kshatriya has been to bear the danda,¹⁰ to be fierce and to protect the subjects. Listen, O Ruru! A long time ago, many snakes were killed in the yajna of Janamejaya. In that sarpa-satra, the frightened snakes were protected by a Brahmin named Astika. O best among Brahmins! The foremost Brahmin Astika was endowed with the power of tapas and fully knew the Vedas and Vedangas."

EPILOGUE

On hearing about Astika from Sahasrapat, Ruru asked him how Janamejaya inflicted himsa on snakes, why they were killed and why they were protected by Astika. Sahasrapat told Ruru that he will hear the full account of Astika from some Brahmins. And so saying, Sahasrapat disappeared from there.

LESSONS

Nilakantha comments that Ruru was aggrieved even before Pramadvara was married to him. He considered her as his wife just on the word of her father. He was extremely grieved when she died. As per Nilakantha, this shows the grief-giving nature of marriage. I think it also shows the devotion one should have towards their would-be spouse, even before the wedding. Nilakantha further remarks that Ruru’s lament and his inability to revive Pramadvara show that howsoever great one’s life may be, it is impossible to get even one extra moment of life.

As per Nilakantha, the learning from the extreme rage of Ruru against the snakes is that even great people sometimes indulge in adharma, in a fit of rage, when things do not go as per their wishes. Nilakantha says that the moral of the story of the dundubha’s previous birth is that one should not cause distress to another person even jokingly, to say nothing of troubling somebody in reality, and that too, following adharma.

Another learning from the katha is that in the eyes of the world, the fault of some individuals tarnishes the reputation of the whole group or community. As the dundubha says, the nonvenomous dundubhas are faulted and treated like other snakes even though they do not bite humans as other snakes do.

Finally, Nilakantha comments that the example of Astika, given by Sahasrapat, teaches that a Brahmin should not commit himsa, but on the contrary, protect living beings from himsa inflicted by others.

3

The Rishi and the Snake Maiden

Parvan: Adi-parvan

Upaparvan: Astika-parvan

Adhyayas: I.13–14

PROLOGUE

While narrating the katha of Ruru and the snake, Sauti mentioned the protection of snakes by the Brahmin Astika in the sarpa-satra of Janamejaya. After the katha had been narrated, Shaunaka asked Sauti why King Janamejaya had snakes killed in his sarpa-satra and why Astika saved them. Sauti then narrated the katha of Astika to Shaunaka. Sauti had heard this katha when Lomaharshana, his father, had narrated it to Brahmins. The katha was originally narrated by Krishna Dvaipayana Vyasa to the residents of the Naimisha forest. In the course of the narration, Sauti first related the katha of Rishi Jaratkaru.

KATHA

STIKA’S father was as powerful as Prajapati. He was a brahmachari.¹ He was restrained in his diet and ever engrossed in a fierce tapas. He was known as Jaratkaru. He was an urdhvaretas.² His tapas was great. The foremost among the wandering rishis, Jaratkaru knew dharma and was firm in following his vows. Once, the highly fortunate Jaratkaru, endowed with the power of tapas, travelled all over the earth. Wherever he was when the night fell, that spot would be the muni’s home. The very brilliant rishi would roam around everywhere, bathing in tirthas and following a vow which was difficult to observe for the undisciplined. Withering away, the muni survived on air alone, giving up all food and pleasures. He had conquered sleep. Moving here and there, he appeared like a bright fire.

Once, while roaming around, Jaratkaru saw his forefathers. They were hanging in a large hole in the ground, with their feet above and their heads below. As soon as he saw them, Jaratkaru said to his forefathers, "Who are you, hanging in this trench with your heads down? The clump of virana grass³ that you are holding on to has been eaten from all sides by a rat who always lives hidden in this trench."

The forefathers said, We are rishis named Yayavara. We strictly follow our vows. O Brahmin! Due to the end of our lineage, we are sinking down in the earth. We are unfortunate. We have only one hapless descendent named Jaratkaru who is engaged in tapas alone. The fool does not want to have a wife to father children. Due to the end of our lineage, we are hanging down in this trench. Like evildoers, we have been made helpless by him who is our saviour. O excellent one! Who are you, grieving for us? O Brahmin! We want to know. Who are you, standing here for us? And, O most respectable one, why do you mourn for us deplorable beings?

Jaratkaru said, You are certainly my antecedents—my pitris with my grandfathers. I am Jaratkaru himself. Please tell me, what should I do now?

The forefathers said, O son! You are energetic. Do make an effort for the continuation of our lineage. O capable one! For your sake and our sake, this alone is dharma. Son! The state achieved by those who have children is not achieved by fruits of dharma or well-accumulated tapas. O son! Therefore, by our order, set your heart on marriage and progeny, and make efforts for the same. This would be supremely beneficial for us.

Jaratkaru said, I will not marry or accumulate wealth for the sake of my life. However, for the sake of your well-being, I will accept a wife. I will do this as per the rules of shastras, but on one condition. I will do it if that condition is met, not otherwise. I will marry, as per rules of shastras, a maiden who has the same name as me and whose brothers wish to give her to me like a gift in charity. After all, who will give a wife to a poor man like me? However, I will accept if somebody offers me a wife as bhiksha. O grandfathers! I will continuously make efforts for marriage thus, in this very way. I will not act differently. Surely, from her will be born a being for your liberation. My forefathers! Then, you will obtain the eternal state and rejoice.

Then that Brahmin of strict vows roamed around the earth looking for a wife to marry. He did not find a wife. One day, the Brahmin went inside a forest. Remembering the words of his forefathers and desiring a bride as bhiksha, he softly cried out thrice, Kanya-bhiksham dehi.⁴ The naga king Vasuki accepted his prayer by offering his sister to Jaratkaru. But Jaratkaru did not accept her, thinking that she may not have the same name as him. I will accept only a maiden who has the same name and who is eager. Mahatma Jaratkaru’s mind was fixed on this resolve.

Jaratkaru, very wise and rich in tapas, asked Vasuki, O serpent! What is your sister’s name? Tell me the truth.

Vasuki said, O Jaratkaru! This is Jaratkaru, my younger sister. I offer this slender-waisted maiden to you. Please accept her as your wife. She has been reserved for you beforehand. O excellent Brahmin! Please accept her.

Having spoken thus, Vasuki offered his sister, of the most beautiful complexion, as wife to Jaratkaru. And Jaratkaru accepted her with the rites prescribed by the rules of shastras.

EPILOGUE

After narrating the katha, Sauti explained that the serpents were earlier cursed by their mother Kadru that Agni would burn them in the yajna of Janamejaya. To negate the curse, Vasuki offered his sister as a wife to Jaratkaru. After Jaratkaru and Jaratkaru married, a son named Astika was born to them. It was this Astika who saved the serpents from being killed in the yajna of Janamejaya.

LESSONS

Nilakantha says that the hole in the ground that Jaratkaru sees is the mortal world. The forefathers, who were hanging upside down, represent pitris in svarga who always have the fear of falling from there. Kala is the mouse and the stoma of the family (the family tree) is the clump of grass. The essence is that Kala or time eats away all families. As if looking at the ruins of a majestic palace, Bhartrihari says in the Vairagyashataka (verse 42), That beautiful city, that great king, that attendance of feudatory kings, that assembly of scholars by the king’s side, those court damsels with faces as beautiful as the moon’s orb, that bunch of haughty princes, those bards and those royal tales—salutation to Kala by whose power all this lives only in memory now.

One can read another meaning in Nilakantha’s commentary. As the word ‘stoma’ also means praise or hymn, one can interpret the mouse eating the clump of grass as Kala eating away the reputation of every family. The learning is that the past reputation of one’s family is being devoured by time every moment and hence is not of much value; it is the present merit of an individual that matters more. Yet another subtle learning from this interpretation of ‘stoma’ as praise or renown is that once their reputation or renown no longer exists, the pitris fall down from svarga. This same teaching is imparted by Markandeya in the katha of Indradyumna and the old animals (katha 16).

Jaratkaru was the only one left in his family. His decision to not marry and not have any child was causing the family tree to vanish and his pitris to fall down. The Bhagavadgita (1.42) also says that pitris fall down if there is no descendent to offer pinda and water to them.

Nilakantha further says that the resolve of Jaratkaru teaches a man that the true purpose of entering into a marriage and accumulating wealth is progeny and yajna, not just mortal pleasures and enjoyments.

There is also a message in Jaratkaru’s name and his insistence on accepting a maiden of the same name. Sauti explains to Shaunaka later that the name Jaratkaru means he who has made his body weak and thin by tapas.⁵ Both Jaratkaru and his wife, Vasuki’s sister, were so engrossed in tapas that their bodies had become weak and thin. A person who is engaged in tapas should ideally take a wife who is also equally devoted to tapas.

Kadru, Vinata, the horse and the snakes (katha 4)

4

The Snakes and the Horse

Parvan: Adi-parvan

Upaparvan: Astika-parvan

Adhyayas: I.20,22–23

PROLOGUE

Ugrashravas Sauti told Shaunaka and the rishis about Kadru and Vinata, daughters of Daksha and wives of Kashyapa, who was the son of Marichi and grandson of Brahma. Kadru asked Kashyapa for one thousand nagas as sons, while Vinata asked him for two sons more powerful than the sons of Kadru. Kashyapa granted both of them the boons they had asked for.

Sauti then briefly narrated the account of the churning of the ocean—how the devas and the danavas together churned the ocean and how Vishnu took on the Mohini form to deprive the danavas of amrita. Sauti then related the katha of the wager made by Kadru and Vinata over the horse that arose from the churning of the ocean.

KATHA

URING the churning of the ocean, a handsome horse of incomparable strength was born. On seeing the horse, Kadru said to Vinata, O auspicious lady! Tell me without delay, what colour is this Uchchaihshravas horse? Vinata said, O fortunate one! This king of horses is surely white. What do you think? You also tell me his colour, then we will have a bet. Kadru said, O sweet-smiling lady! I think this horse has a black tail. Lovely lady! Come, bet with me for servanthood—one who loses will become the other’s servant. Thus, making a mutual pledge about becoming the other’s servant, the two sisters went to their respective homes after saying, We will see tomorrow.

Thereafter, Kadru, who wanted to cheat, ordered her thousand sons, the serpents, Quickly transform yourselves into black hair and enter the horse’s tail so that I do not become a servant. She then cursed the serpents who did not obey her command, When the sarpa-satra of Rajarshi Janamejaya, the wise descendent of the Pandavas, takes place, Agni will burn all of you.

Brahma himself heard this immensely cruel curse given by Kadru. Indeed, it was due to destiny. Seeing the abundance of snakes, Brahma, along with all the devas, approved of the curse as he wished the welfare of all living beings. Brahma said, These snakes, given to biting, have fiery vigour and venom. They are very strong. Surely, due to their fiery venom and for the welfare of creatures, what the mother did to them is correct. They are given to approaching others only for inflicting pain on them. Even other beings who are always intent on wrongdoing are punished till their death by destiny. After speaking thus, Brahma honoured Kadru. He then summoned Kashyapa and said these words, O immaculate one! These snakes that you begot are much given to biting others. They are large-bodied and powerful due to their venom. O tormenter of enemies! They have been cursed by their mother. Son! You should not get angry in any way over this. The destruction of snakes in the yajna has been seen long ago. After speaking thus, the creator Brahma gratified Prajapati Kashyapa and gave that mahatma the knowledge of removing snake venom.

After Kadru had cursed the snakes, the serpent Karkotaka was frightened by her curse. With supreme affection, the foremost snake said to his mother Kadru, Mother! Rest assured. Transforming myself into a strand of black hair, I will enter the great horse’s tail and will show myself there. The illustrious Kadru replied to her son, So be it.

Meanwhile, the snakes met together and said to each other We should do her bidding. Not getting what she wants, our mother will surely burn us down without any affection. And if she is pleased, our beautiful mother will free us from this curse. Without a doubt, we will make the horse’s tail black.

Then they all went and stationed themselves in the horse’s tail, as if they were its hair strands. At this time, the two wives of Kashyapa who had made the bet arrived there. The sisters Kadru and Vinata, daughters of Daksha, again made the bet and travelled in the sky with immense pleasure to reach the other shore of the great ocean. On their way, they saw the ocean which was the treasure of the marine waters. Though imperturbable, the ocean was suddenly agitated to the hilt by a strong wind. The loud-sounding ocean was filled with large fish that could swallow even the largest whales and abounded in marine crocodiles. It contained many thousands of terrifying creatures of various kinds. It was violent, unassailable, deep and extremely terrifying. It was the mine of all gems, the abode of Varuna, the most beautiful residence of the serpents and the master of the rivers. The eternal ocean was the home of the Badava fire,¹ the abode of the asuras and frightening creatures, and the reservoir of the marine waters. Being the source of amrita, it was radiant and supremely divine for the devas. It was immeasurable, inconceivable and filled with very auspicious pure waters. Here and there, it was being filled incessantly by thousands of great rivers. It appeared as if it was dancing with its waves. Full of the most unsteady waves, the deep ocean of great expanse resembled the blue sky. Its regions were illuminated by the flames of the Badava fire.

Now, the two sisters quickly crossed the roaring ocean. The swift Kadru, along with Vinata, soon descended near the horse. Then they both saw that foremost horse of great speed. The horse was white like the rays of the moon but his tail was black. Kadru appointed Vinata, who had a dejected look on seeing the many strands of black hair in the horse’s tail, as her servant. At that moment, Vinata, who had lost the wager, was afflicted by sorrow and became a servant.

EPILOGUE

When Kadru and Vinata had made the bet, Garuda had still not hatched from Vinata’s second egg. Earlier, an impatient Vinata had broken open one of her two eggs. Aruna, who