Chapter 34 Kurukshetra
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"Seven continents!" Indra murmured.
The seven continents surrounding Mandara Mountain reminded him of the ancient lands he had once known.
Surya standing nearby, nodded in approval. "Indeed seven continents."
He pointed toward the south of Mandara Mountain. "Look there—my son Yama's Yamaloka lies just below. Only with the protection of Yamaloka can this land remain intact. And that land has the most Jambu trees. Why not call this region Jambudvipa?" Suryadev smiled, thinking of his son with satisfaction.
The name "Jambu" refers to the Jambu tree(Rose Apples), a sacred symbol in Hindu cosmology, and Dvipa refers to "island" or "continent."
Agnidev's mind focused on the east and spoke next. "The Yakshas once inhabited this region, which was full of spiritual energy and vast resources. Why not call it Purvavideha where divine energy flows like a river?"
Suryadev acknowledged, "Yes, a fitting name indeed."
His gaze then turned toward the north. "The vast northern plains shall be known as the Kuru Wilderness, the most fertile plains that stretches far and wide. But now, it has taken on new life. We shall call this part the Kuru."
Indra's eyes twitched at the mention of Kuru. Kurukshetra, the field of the great battle between the Pandavas and the Kauravas—a place where countless lives were lost in the war of dharma and adharma. He was reminded of the fate that awaited it in the future.
A sudden realization hit him. "So, this is the land that will eventually bear witness to the greatest war of mortals?"
A quiet hush filled the air as the Indra contemplated the future of this land.
Brihaspati raised his hand and pointed westward. "Indra, this is where you defeated Vritra and rescued Kamadhenu. This land, rich with cattle and resources, will be where the mortal herders will thrive. We shall call it Gokulavideha, for it is the land of cows and pastoral life."
Indra nodded, his gaze turning to the Himalayas. "And to the north, we have the Himalayas, the home of the sages. This sacred range, where the door to Kailasha resides, must be protected, for it is the spine of our world. It shall welcome those who are seeking the meaning of life or those who want to give their life some meaning."
Agni agreed. "The Hima, the greatest of all mountains. Let it be a place where the gods and mortals can do penance."
Then, turning to the south, Suryadev pointed toward the small land of Lanka. "In the far south lies Lanka, an island of great power ruled by Yaksha. It is the domain of Kubera—a place of both divine and mortals. This will remain the sacred realm of the many Yakshas and humans."
Indra deep in thought, then spoke about the Vindhyas, a mountain range that separated the northern and southern regions of the land. "The Vindhyas stand as the natural boundary between the regions, and the lands beyond them are vast and fertile."
Finally, Brihaspati looked to the west and said, "And the Aravallis, ancient mountains full of wisdom and guardianship, must remain as they are. There live the keepers of knowledge and guardians of the lands beyond."
The conversation settled as the Devas gazed upon the mighty Jambudvipa—the land that had been shaped and will continue to shape the mortal and divine worlds. They knew that their efforts in creating these territories were more than just naming places—they were creating the world that would define the future of both mortals and gods.
In a short time, the seven major continents were given names: Jambudvipa, Plaksadvipa, Salmalidvipa, Kusadvipa, Krouncadvipa, Sakadvipa, and Pushkaradvipa. The Devas were pleased with their choices.
At that moment, Bhumidev's beautiful face glowed with a spring-like warmth. She smiled at Indra, her eyes full of gratitude, and clasped her hands together.
"Devas thank you for your help!" Bhumi's voice was filled with reverence.
Indra waved his hand with a chuckle. "Hahaha! It's nothing. As Adityas this is our dharma." He relished the admiration of the goddess.
"May I, then, offer a Nritya for you, O King of the Devas?"," Bhumi said, her eyes shining with excitement.
The Nritya of the Earth Goddess! A rare sight indeed. Indra's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly, his divine form standing in rapt attention.
As soon as she finished speaking, Bhumidev, the Earth Goddess, gracefully turned around. Her golden and red dress swirled around her like a peacock spreading its tail, and rhythmic music seemed to emanate from the very earth itself. The mountains, rivers, and forests joined in, producing a melody that was both vibrant and free, resonating with the harmony of nature.
Bhumi's body radiated vitality, her movements as fluid as the winds that swept across her domain. Her slender waist twisted with natural grace, and her arms flowed like the graceful necks of swans, swaying with an ethereal elegance as she moved her gaze left and right. Her steps were light, almost weightless, like a peacock dancing in the breeze, unburdened by the laws of the world.
Her hands hovered near her cheeks, fingers tracing gentle, subtle movements that seemed to call the very elements to dance along with her. Her eyes briefly met Indra's, a flicker of something deeper and ancient passing between them, like the connection of two forces of nature.
Indra's gaze was unwavering, drawn to her every motion with a rapt intensity. A single drop of sweat formed on his forehead, slowly sliding down his face. The sweat, was crystal-clear and sparkling in the light, shimmering like the endless sky, with a faint bluish lightning glimmering within it.
The drop of sweat, carried by the delicate breeze, drifted away from him. It hung suspended in the air for a heartbeat, as if taking its journey, before landing gently on the arms of Bhumidevi, who continued her dance. The air around them seemed to hum with the energy of the universe, as if every breath and every movement were intertwined with the cosmic rhythm.
Tick… tick…
The drop of sweat vanished quietly, merging seamlessly with Bhumi's body as if it had never existed. The very earth seemed to sigh in response. Yet, in that moment, a subtle change took place. Bhumi faltered, a brief shiver sweeping through her. It was a strange sensation, one that rose unexpectedly from her belly and lingered in her chest, like an unfamiliar echo in the vastness of her being.
She froze for a heartbeat, her brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what had just transpired. What was this sensation? Why had she suddenly shivered so?
The Devas fell silent for a moment as if caught in the same strange stillness that had gripped Bhumi.
And then, the applause began, breaking the silence like a thunderclap. Indra, his eyes flashing with pride and something akin to admiration, led the Devas in their applause. The claps rang like the roar of thunder, resonating through the heavens.
"This seems to be the Ananda Nritya created by Nataraja," Brihaspathi remarked from the side, clearly pleased with his knowledge, his voice reverberating with satisfaction.
Bhumi nodded slightly, a smile curving her lips as she caught her breath. "Yes, this is indeed the dance created by Lord Shiva," she said softly, a soft chuckle escaping her. She briefly closed her eyes, as if reflecting on the deep power of the dance that had passed through her.
"It was beautifully danced," she continued, opening her eyes again, her gaze lifting to Indra with a mischievous glint, "but a little too brief."
Indra, still standing with his hands raised in applause, cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. A mix of disappointment and gentle curiosity crossed his features.
"Bhumi, why did you stop so soon?" he asked, his tone carrying both concern and a hint of disbelief.
He had been expecting more, yearning for the continuation of such a rare and divine performance, but it had ended too abruptly for his liking.
Bhumi smiled warmly, giving a soft, knowing sigh. "Sometimes, Indra, even the earth must rest," she said cryptically, her voice laced with light teasing.
…
…
As the vanguard of the Devas, Vayu led the Gandharvas back from Kshira Sagara, while the other Devas followed Indra toward Svarga. The Svarga was vast, and its sea of clouds seemed endless.
The mighty legions of the Deva army returned in waves, their presence heralded by thunderous sounds. Indra stood high above, his hands resting on his waist as he gazed down at the unfolding scene.
There weren't many Gandharvas and Apsaras left— but once they drank the Amrita, they would be eternal. Plus humanity will bring forth countless Sages, Pitrus, and righteous souls. As for the Asuras, they would wait until the Rishi Shukracharya performed penance to Shiva and obtained the Sanjeevani Mantra, a powerful incantation capable of resurrecting them. The Asura army, too, would swell in number.
Indra tilted his head, his lips curling in amusement.
"Good grief!" he muttered. "Now I understand why the numbers of Devas and Asuras are always even! The Amrita and the Sanjeevani Mantra are the key."
Suryadev smiled brightly. "Our celestial army has returned with the Amrita. From now on, my son Yama will never have to claim another Dev, and death will stay far away from Svarga."
"Exactly!" Soma agreed his smile just as wide. "This great battle has proven that, with the Amrita, mere Asuras are no match for the Devas."
Vayu nodded in approval. "The Asuras are no longer our opponents."
Agni and Varuna both exchanged knowing glances, their agreement clear.
"Ah, Amrita!" Indra murmured. "This is truly the key for eternal bliss and eternal work."
"Dev, why don't you smile at such a moment worthy of celebration?" Agni asked with a grin, turning to Indra.
Indra raised his hand to his mouth and turned his head, unable to hold back a loud laugh. He couldn't laugh at this time, though. His amusement came not from victory, but from how Surya and the devas were getting ahead of themselves, celebrating too early.
Clearing his throat, he quickly composed himself. "It's better to share the Amrita with the army!" he said, his tone turning more serious.
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Chapter 35 There is an imposter among us
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The Devas assembled in an orderly line, their presence exuding divine grace. Yama, the god of death; Vishwakarma, the celestial architect and patron of craftsmen; and Bhumi, the Earth Goddess, each approached in turn. With reverent hands, they poured and held golden bowls brimming with Amrita, the elixir of immortality, its crystalline liquid flowing like a pristine spring.
Standing nearby, the Gandharvas Chitraratha and Tumburu began to hum a melodious tune, their voices weaving an ethereal harmony. The Apsaras Menaka, Rambha, and Urvashi danced lightly to the rhythm, their movements were as fluid as the Amrita itself.
As the Devas raised their heads and drank deeply from the sacred nectar, their expressions transformed into ones of awe and renewal.
"The power of Amrita courses through my very being!" exclaimed Kubera, the god of wealth and the king of the Yakshas—nature spirits.
"So warm, so comforting!" remarked Agni his face glowing with blissful contentment.
"I feel stronger than ever!" declared Vayu his voice vibrant with newfound vitality, as the divine essence invigorated his spirit.
The Gandharvas' music swelled, and the Apsaras twirled gracefully, their performance adding to the celestial celebration of rejuvenation and divine harmony.
...
The residents of Svargaloka intoxicated by the power of the immortal Amrita, couldn't help but revel in its effects. Amidst the celebration, Svarbhanu, disguised as a Gandharva, blended into the Svarga's legions. From his vantage point, he looked at the endlessly long line, which stretched so far it made him uneasy.
What frustrated him further were the beautiful goddesses, who occasionally joined the queue, gliding past the Gandharvas with grace.
Svarbhanu watched the line grow longer and longer, his place consistently at the back. His face darkened as a sense of boredom crept in.
"How long will this take?" he muttered. "At this rate, it could take years. I need to find a way out of this."
As he pondered, his eyes caught sight of a goddess in a flowing white dress, passing by numerous Gandharvas. Her elegance left only the memory of her graceful back.
"Who is she?" Svarbhanu wondered, his interest piqued.
The Gandharva standing nearby, eager to show off, replied with pride, "Don't you recognize her? That is Yami, the daughter of Surya, twin sister to Yama, the god of death. She's also the goddess of the Yamuna River."
Svarbhanu's eyes gleamed. He smirked slightly, his hand brushing his beard as he admired Yami's figure.
As a member of the Danava clan, Svarbhanu wasn't as skilled in combat as the Daitya clan's generals. However, his mastery of the Maya far surpassed that of most Asuras. It was this power that had allowed him to slip so seamlessly into the Svarga's army.
"It's time to show my true power," Svarbhanu thought to himself, feeling a surge of confidence.
Without a second glance at the queue, he turned away and strode out of the line, snorting in disdain.
"Only a fool would wait in this endless line. There's a better way, and I'm going to show them how it's done."
Making his way to a secluded corner of Amravati City, Svarbhanu twisted his neck and turned sharply. The magic of Maya began to swirl around him, his true powers coming to life.
In the blink of an eye, the imposing Gandharva warrior vanished, replaced by a serene goddess in a white dress. Her face, strikingly beautiful, was identical to Yami's.
"Devas will never see this coming!" Svarbhanu chuckled to himself, pleased with his disguise.
With a swift motion, he soared into the air, heading straight for the Devas' banquet.
Whoosh!
Svarbhanu moved quickly, eager to drink the Amrita before Yami could. As he flew past the endless line of Gandharvas, he couldn't help but smirk at their unawareness, twitching the corners of his mouth in amusement.
Hum!
Svarbhanu accelerated toward the temple where the Devas were drinking the Amrita. Below, a group of Gandharvas stood idly, watching the festivities from afar, until their calm was broken by a sudden outburst.
"Did you see that? Goddess Yami just looked at me and smiled!" said Vishvavasu, his tone brimming with excitement.
"What? No way! That smile was meant for me!" Chitraratha shot back, crossing his arms indignantly.
"Wait a minute... Didn't Yami just pass by here heading in that direction?" Tumburu interjected, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Why is she now coming from the same way again?"
"Really? You must be mistaken!" Suruchi replied, shaking his head as if dismissing the notion.
"Yeah, you've got it wrong! Yami smiled, and it was at me!" Chitraratha exclaimed with certainty, his chest puffing out proudly.
In an instant, the gathering of Gandharvas dissolved into a chaotic chorus of overlapping voices, each one adamantly convinced that Yami's ethereal smile had been directed at them. Their usual melodious harmony was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a cacophony of bickering that echoed through the Svarga.
...
As the Devas drank the Amrita, Svarbhanu, disguised as Yamuna, finally arrived at the temple where the divine nectar was shared. He landed in front of the temple, taking a moment to look around curiously before striding confidently inside.
At that moment, Soma was seated, enjoying the Amrita. His eyes immediately fell on 'Yamuna.'
The goddess before him had a youthful glow, exuding vitality and grace. She walked with an air of confidence, her white skirt fluttering with each step, revealing her ankles, as pale as ice, and her slender, snow-white thighs. This appearance was in stark contrast to the usual coldness she radiated.
"She's stunning!" Soma thought to himself. "Yama's sister is truly beautiful!"
Soma's eyes gleamed with interest. He had always been drawn to beauty, especially when it came to women he couldn't attain. Among such women, he had a particular fondness for those who were both gorgeous and unattainable. For instance, he had long admired Brihaspati's wife, Tara, for her elegance, wishing to soothe her loneliness and dispel her coldness beneath the moonlight.
After all, Tara's husband spent most of his time in solitude, following the King of Svarga instead of being with his wife. Soma had yet to find an opportunity with her, but now, the sight of Yamuna filled him with new desire.
"I like what I see!" Soma thought with a grin. "I heard Yama often argues with Yamuna about her free-spirited nature. I wonder if there's a chance for me..."
Nearby, Surya also spotted the 'Yamuna' figure and frowned, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Yama, keep an eye on your sister," Surya muttered under his breath.
Yama, noticing the 'Yamuna' before him, shook his head in disapproval. He wasn't surprised by the scene—if anything, it confirmed his earlier concerns.
"She always does what she wants," Yama muttered under his breath. "Father never says a word to her. Girls are always favored by their fathers, aren't they? No matter what she does, Father only sees her charm. But if I step out of line even once..."
He pulled a sour face and turned away, ignoring Surya, leaving the latter speechless. Surya rose to his feet, his golden armor catching the light and glowing with divine radiance. His face, handsome yet unyieldingly stern, betrayed no flicker of emotion as he strode purposefully toward the 'Yamuna'.
As he drew closer, Surya's sharp eyes began to notice discrepancies—subtle at first, but undeniable. The light that should have surrounded Yamuna's form lacked her characteristic warmth and purity. Her gait, her aura, her very presence felt…off.
Yama, now glancing sideways, also began to scrutinize the figure he had avoided. His frown deepened. "This isn't her," he muttered, his voice cold and steady.
Meanwhile, Svarbhanu, hidden behind his illusion, felt a surge of excitement. His Maya powers were so potent that even the Devas of Svarga could not detect a single flaw in his disguise or halt his plans.
Amrita—he was almost there.
His eyes gleamed with anticipation as the wind swept beneath his feet, carrying him swiftly past many Devas. His thighs moved so quickly that he nearly tore off the long skirt hindering his progress.
"Devi Yamuna, you're finally here!" Soma greeted with a faint smile. The cold silver light of his armor shimmered, and a hint of concern flickered across his handsome face.
"Mmm!" 'Yamuna' hummed softly, gazing directly at Soma with an intense stare. "It's my turn."
"Of course!" Soma replied, gently pushing aside the beautiful goddess who had been waiting eagerly. He took Yamuna's hand and turned to reveal a glittering golden pot on the divine table.
But just as they were about to partake, a sharp voice rang out.
"Soma!"
Soma's eyes narrowed as he reluctantly released 'Yamuna's' hand.
Svarbhanu, disguised as Yamuna, glanced longingly at the Amrita. He took a step forward, but just as his hand reached out, a strong, fiery-hot grip seized his wrist.
"Daughter!" Surya's voice boomed.
Svarbhanu, frozen in place, tried to pull away but found himself unable to budge against the powerful grip of the Sun Deva.
"Yamuna, what are you doing?" Surya demanded, pulling 'Yamuna' in front of him and glaring at his daughter.
A heavy silence fell over the temple, and all eyes turned toward the confrontation. The air was thick with tension, and the atmosphere was charged with confusion and suspicion.
Then, a deep, joyful laugh echoed from outside the temple.
The Devas turned in unison.
Indra stood grinning, his presence commanding attention. Beside him, a beautiful goddess in a white dress raised her hands, covering her pink lips with a smile of infatuation, clearly delighted by their conversation.
"Yamuna?!" Surya gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief.
The temple fell silent again as several pairs of eyes exchanged puzzled glances.
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Chapter 36 The Birth of Rahu and Ketu
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There were two Yamunas at the scene—one an imposter. Surya looked puzzled, Svarbhanu was flustered, and Soma's jaw dropped in shock. Yamuna stood frozen in confusion, while Yama frowned deeply.
Indra's expression hardened.
Inside the temple, the Devas were paralyzed with shock, their faces a mix of bewilderment and unease. Their gazes darted around the room, colliding like sparks in a charged atmosphere. The tension was palpable, an invisible flame of conflict igniting between them.
Indra's sharp eyes narrowed at the Yamuna near the amrita.
Moments earlier, he had been standing guard outside the temple, vigilant for any signs of Asuras sneaking in. To his surprise, he had spotted Yamuna lingering hesitantly near the temple's entrance. The noble King of the Devas, unwilling to see a goddess so unsure, had approached to console her.
But then it happened—another Yamuna appeared, identical in every way.
Indra's attention snapped to the jar of Amrita in Soma's hands suspicion flaring in his mind.
The other Devas followed his gaze, their eyes locking onto the sacred jar. A grim realization struck them all simultaneously: one of the Yamunas was an imposter.
For a moment, who is the real devi ceased to matter. The Amrita—divine nectar granting immortality—was paramount.
Soma instinctively turned, clutching the jar protectively. "Amrita!" he gasped.
Indra acted in an instant, streaking forward like a bolt of lightning. His singular focus was the Amrita.
Svarbhanu, abandoning any pretense of innocence, let out a guttural laugh. If he could consume the amrita, he would ascend to immortality. His body swelled grotesquely, his Maya illusion shattered to reveal his true form—an Asura with seven arms and a serpent's tail.
With one hand, Svarbhanu seized Surya, effortlessly pulling him aside. Another hand shoved Soma away, while a third reached for the Amrita.
By then, Indra had closed the distance, lightning crackling in his palm as he prepared to strike.
Svarbhanu's fingers clamped around the jar, and with a triumphant roar, he tilted it back, letting the divine nectar flow into his mouth. In a final act of brute force, one of his massive hands formed a fist and drove it into Indra's chest.
The blow landed squarely against the Sahasrakavacha, Indra's thousand-layered armor.
Snap!
A soft yet ominous sound echoed through the temple.
Meanwhile, the Amrita coursed through Svarbhanu's neck, filling his mind with euphoria and his body with invincibility.
"Hahahaha!" Svarbhanu bellowed, his laughter echoing like thunder. "I have consumed the Amrita! I am now immortal, the first Asura to achieve immortality! There's nothing you can do to stop me now, hahahaha!"
His triumphant laughter filled the air, a chilling sound that resonated with his unrestrained glee.
Svarbhanu couldn't resist spreading his seven powerful arms wide, eager to display his might and intelligence.
Bang! As he rolled his shoulders in a grand gesture, a soft, ominous sound echoed.
Svarbhanu froze, confusion flickering across his face.
He glanced down and felt a chill. His pupils shrank as he took in the horrifying sight before him.
The arm that had touched the King of Svarga was withering before his eyes. Darkness seeped into it, shriveling and rotting the flesh until it turned black and sloughed off his body, collapsing to the ground as a pile of decayed mush.
A faint blue light flickered from the arm, spreading rapidly across his body. It surged over his torso in an instant, racing toward his remaining limbs, neck, and head.
"Oh~" Surya's expression twisted in horror and disgust. He shook Svarbhanu's hand off him as if it burned.
Beside him, Soma recoiled in shock and immediately turned to flee.
"Ahhhhhh!" Svarbhanu's disembodied head let out a blood-curdling scream as the corruption spread.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
In mere moments, three more of his arms blackened, withered, and crumbled to ashes on the ground.
Bang! The jar of Amrita slipped from his grasp, landing heavily on Svarbhanu's massive tail.
The nectar spilled, and the divine energy of immortality coursed into his tail. At the same time, the poison of Halahala—the deadly venom of the cosmos—swept over his body. A violent clash ensued within him, the Amrita's power halting the spread of the Halahala, restraining it to his head and the base of his tail.
Indra, ever swift, darted forward and snatched the jar of Amrita. He cradled it protectively in his arms and turned back toward Svarbhanu with a confident gleam in his eyes.
Svarbhanu was left with only his head and tail intact. His head floated in mid-air, shrieking in agony, while his slender tail thrashed wildly, striking the temple floor in chaos.
But the Devas' eyes were not on Svarbhanu. They all stared at Indra, their expressions a mixture of shock and horror.
"It's not my fault! He did it to himself!" Indra exclaimed, raising his hands in mock innocence.
Still, the gravity of the situation loomed. This was no ordinary affliction. It was the poison of the death itself—Halahala.
With a wave of his hand, Indra absorbed the Halahala, now sublimated into a toxic mist, into his divine armor. The remnants of Svarbhanu's decayed, mud-like body were instantly obliterated.
He then extended his hand, and lightning transformed into a crackling rope. It shot out with a sharp crack, binding Svarbhanu's head and tail securely.
"What should we do now?" Surya asked, his voice heavy with concern. "This Asura drank the Amrita. Even reduced to just a head and tail, he cannot die."
Surya frowned, his gaze sweeping over the grotesque remnants of Svarbhanu.
Soma's expression was stiff and brooding, his face shadowed with gloom. Just moments ago, he had been entranced by Maya, only to discover her true form as an Asura.
"He must be a spy sent by the Asuras from Patalaloka! Detain him in Svarga's prison and interrogate him properly!" Soma said with a bitter edge of disgust.
"That makes sense," Surya agreed after a moment of thought. "Devas, what do you think?"
Indra remained silent, deep in contemplation. He weighed the decision before him: should Svarbhanu be handed over to Vishnu?
The legend lingered in his mind. Svarbhanu had once been caught drinking the Amrita by Surya and Soma. They reported him to Mohini on the spot. In response, Mohini had wielded the Sudarshana Chakra, severing Svarbhanu's neck. Yet, because Svarbhanu had already consumed the Amrita, he could not die. His head became Rahu, and his body became Ketu—two of the Navagraha.
The Navagraha are Nine heavenly bodies and deities that influence human life on Earth: the Sun, Moon, planets like Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, and the two nodes of the Moon. Rahu and Ketu were the remaining two nodes of the Moon.
"If we imprison him, who knows what could happen?" Indra thought. "What if he begins penance while in prison and grows stronger?"
No, it would be wiser to entrust him to Lord Vishnu.
Indra reasoned that if Svarbhanu ascended to the ranks of the Ninegrahas, he would remain under the King of Svarga's command, making him easier to control. The real threat lay in Svarbhanu discovering the truth of his plight and using that knowledge to cultivate strength in captivity.
The King of Svarga had no desire to plant a ticking time bomb in his own domain. Having resolved his thoughts, Indra prepared to speak, but before he could, Yama stepped forward from among the Devas.
"The Amrita was prepared for us by Lord Vishnu. Now this Asura has drunk it and dared to become immortal!"
"Why not hand him over to the Lord Vishnu for judgment?" Yama suggested firmly.
Indra's lips curled into a subtle smile. This was precisely the outcome he desired.
"It shall be so!" Indra declared, his satisfaction evident. He clasped his hands together in reverence, prompting the other Devas to follow suit as they began to chant praises to Vishnu, the Preserver of the world.
Soma, though inwardly displeased, joined in reluctantly, masking his dissatisfaction.
"Om namo Narayana!"
"Om namo Narayana!"
Their voices echoed in unison, filling the temple.
Amidst the chorus of devotion, a golden light shimmered into existence before the Devas. The radiance was as fluid as water, yet clear as a mirror, and within it appeared the majestic form of Vishnu.
Draped in resplendent golden garments, Vishnu stood with a serene smile. The Sudarshana Chakra, his divine wheel, spun effortlessly at his fingertips, radiating power and balance.
"Lord Vishnu, this Asura used the power of Maya to disguise himself as a Devi Yamuna," Indra began, his tone measured and deliberate. "He infiltrated Svarga and drank the Amrita meant for the Devas. How should we deal with him?"
At Indra's words, Vishnu's gaze shifted, falling upon the bound remnants of Svarbhanu—the head and tail tightly restrained by a crackling rope of lightning, their pitiful state almost laughable.
Vishnu's smile widened, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. The sight was almost too absurd.
Svarbhanu, however, was filled with despair. If he could weep, he would have done so.
Regret consumed him. If only I hadn't flaunted my seven arms… he thought miserably. If I had only three, I wouldn't have touched that cursed armor. I wouldn't be reduced to just a head and tail now.
Breaking the moment, Vishnu's calm and commanding voice rang out.
"Svarbhanu, since you have partaken of the Amrita..."
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Chapter 37 Yama's Burden: The Eternal Task
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"Svarbhanu, since you have partaken of the amrita meant for the residents of Svargaloka, thus you shall remain in Svarga," Vishnu declared.
"From now on, your head shall be known as Rahu, and your tail as Ketu. Both will take their place as the two nodes of the Moon as Navagraha." Vishnu smiled gently as he spoke.
With those words, the golden light surrounding him began to fade, and the Preserver of the world disappeared, leaving the Devas in silent reverence.
Indra stood in the temple, gazing out at Svarga and the boundless human world below. His eyes traveled to the horizon where the human realm and the celestial Svarga met, over the vast expanse of Mandara Mountain. There, amidst the cosmic expanse, stars orbited the sun and moon in harmony. Two faint, dark stars glimmered with divine power, their light subtle yet undeniable.
Rahu and Ketu. The second pair among the Navagraha. Indra had anticipated this outcome.
In truth, dealing with Rahu left few options. Treating him as an honored guest was out of the question. Beheading him was futile since he had consumed the nectar of immortality. And keeping him as a subordinate, like a loyal hound, seemed the most practical solution.
"Recruit him," Indra resolved.
With a wave of his hand, the crackling lightning rope binding Rahu dissolved into nothingness.
"We are all Devas now," Indra announced with a warm smile, extending his arms as if welcoming an ally.
Rahu, however, was still reeling in confusion. Just like that? Am I truly a deva now?
The thought of standing among the Devas and battling Asuras unsettled him deeply. What if the Asura armies attack Svarga? Will I be struck down alongside them?
Doubt clouded his mind, and his eyes grew dull with uncertainty. But then, as Indra stepped toward him with open arms, Rahu froze. His face turned pale, and his fear was unmistakable.
"Hey—!" Rahu cried out in panic.
Reacting instinctively, his head spun wildly as he tried to flee. In his haste, he crashed directly into one of the massive temple pillars with a resounding thud.
Ketu, his tail, flailed in tandem with the head's chaotic movements, smacking against the same pillar with a loud crack.
Together, Rahu's head and Ketu's tail slid down the pillar in a dazed heap.
Indra lowered his head, placing his hands on his hips, and gazed at Rahu with a mix of exasperation and bemusement.
Am I really that intimidating?
"Lord... King of Svarga!" Rahu mustered his courage, his voice trembling as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Yes," Indra acknowledged with a nod. "Svarga is vast. You might feel disoriented at first. Someone should help you get acquainted with it."
As he spoke, Indra glanced around the assembly of Devas.
Hearing this, Surya let out a soft chuckle. He understood the unspoken intent behind Indra's words.
Ah, he means someone needs to keep an eye on this Asura.
"I'll do it," Surya said coolly, his tone laced with authority.
"I'm coming too," Soma interjected in a deep, dissatisfied voice. His face betrayed his displeasure as he stepped forward.
Soma's irritation wasn't just because Rahu had infiltrated Svarga—it was also because he had misinterpreted the signs from the goddess Yamuna, thinking they had been meant for something, or someone, else.
This Asura... truly detestable.
Indra blinked in surprise, momentarily silent. The tension between the two Devas was evident, and neither seemed particularly genuine in their offers.
"I meant someone to guide him through Svarga, literally!" Indra clarified, raising an eyebrow.
"That's exactly what we mean," Surya and Soma replied in unison, their voices steady, though their eyes betrayed their hidden agendas.
"Really?" Indra asked, unconvinced.
"Really," they confirmed, each nodding earnestly.
"Are you leaving, then?" Indra turned to look at Rahu, his tone even but expectant.
"Yes, yes, I'll go!" Rahu looked flustered, his head darting upward as he frantically shook it in the air.
He couldn't bear to remain near the King of Svarga any longer. Just standing in Indra's presence made him feel as though his body was being corroded by the remnants of Halahala. A deep, unsettling sense of powerlessness crept into his heart.
Even now, as he glanced back, he felt a chill lingering on the back of his head.
"Then go!" Indra commanded, waving him off.
At this, Suryadev and Soma began leading the way, and Rahu wasted no time following. He spun around and flew off at a brisk pace, Ketu trailing behind, wagging his tail with erratic enthusiasm.
"That tail's perfect for holding a rope," Indra mused with a smirk, the image of walking a dog briefly amusing him.
Nearby, Goddess Yamuna hurried over to Yama, lifting her skirt slightly as she moved in delicate, hurried steps. "Brother..." she began softly.
But before she could continue, Yama's blue face darkened, his expression growing stormy. He ignored her completely, his heavy steps carrying him directly to Indra.
Clasping his hands together, Yama spoke in a deliberate and measured tone.
"Uncle," he began, "the human world has suffered destruction. My city, Yamaloka, has also been affected and requires repairs. I hope the King can send the God of Craftsman to assist us."
Yama's face softened slightly as he finished speaking, though his tone remained serious.
Yamaloka is said to be located in the southern direction, beneath the earth, as one of the many realms in the afterlife. Where souls go after death, where Yama judges them based on their deeds during their lifetime, deciding their fate and determining whether they are to be reborn, sent to Svarga (heaven), or sent to Naraka (hell).
Indra blinked in surprise at the request. He had originally planned to task the craftsman god, Vishvakarma, with creating a secure place to store the Amrita. But considering the repairs needed in Yama City, he decided it could wait.
"That's not a problem. Just go find him yourself!" Indra replied casually. "By the way, isn't Vishvakarma your grandfather? Why don't you just ask him directly?"
Yama stiffened, his expression grim. "There should still be a formal process," he said solemnly. "Besides, I don't have a good relationship with him."
Indra raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Yama hesitated before answering, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Vishvakarma created the Yamaloka, the realm of the dead, without consulting me first. He made it a vast, intricate realm, full of endless paths and overwhelming design—he never considered how it would feel to govern such a place, to be endlessly burdened by the souls and their suffering."
Indra's gaze softened with understanding. "So, it's not just a matter of family, but of how he tied your existence to this ceaseless task?"
Yama nodded slowly, the weight of his role clear in his eyes. "Exactly. His brilliance as a creator is undeniable, but the very structure of Yamaloka is... suffocating. I was thrust into this responsibility without the chance to choose my own path. And that's something I can never forgive him for."
Indra sighed inwardly, shaking his head slightly. What a complicated family dynamic.
...
In the lush palace garden, Vajranga sat cross-legged on the grass, his knees bent. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and supported his chin with one hand. A melancholy expression clouded his face.
Around him, the vegetation bloomed vibrantly, their colors a stark contrast to his somber mood. Nearby, a majestic white horse grazed with its head bowed. This was Uchchaihshravas, the divine horse churned from the sea of milk.
"Brother Hiranyaksha is really gone," Vajranga murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The Devas have the Trimurti's support, and now they possess Amrita. How can we ever stand against them?"
He paused, his brows furrowing deeper. "I fear what will happen when Hiranyakashipu returns from his penance. If he finds out Hiranyaksha was killed by the Devas and Vishnu, he'll undoubtedly gather an army of Asuras and march straight to Svarga."
He sighed, long and weary. "He might even go so far as to forbid anyone from praising Devas and Vishnu to weaken them."
Vajranga's fingers tangled in his hair as his frustration grew. Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu, twin brothers, were each powerful in their own right—Hiranyaksha, proud and reckless; Hiranyakashipu, unyielding and obstinate. But could even Hiranyakashipu's wrath overcome the might of the Trimurti?
"If only there was a way..."
Vajranga turned to Uchchaihshravas, his tone half-pleading. "Uchchaihshravas, what do you think I should do?"
The divine horse lifted its head slightly, its mane fluttering as if carried by an unseen breeze. It glanced at Vajranga briefly, then returned to grazing, chewing the tender grass with an air of indifference.
"Even a horse can ignore me now," Vajranga muttered, chuckling faintly to himself. "I suppose silence is its kind of advice. Perhaps I should just focus on my penance and grow stronger."
But the white horse stood tall and aloof, its four hooves shifting gracefully, utterly uninterested in Vajranga's plight. Not a single neigh escaped its mouth.
Vajranga laughed bitterly. "Ha! As silent as ever."
Just then, an Asura warrior appeared, his figure flashing into view. He knelt on one knee, bowing his head.
"General, King of Danava has sent an envoy. He requests your presence at the Asura Temple to discuss revenge for the king."
Vajranga's brow creased. "King of the Danavas? Puloman? Why him, of all people? Where is a teacher?"
"The envoy was indeed sent by King Danava," the warrior replied, his tone cautious. "As for the Asuru Guru Shukracharya, no one knows his whereabouts. However, there are rumors he was seen with the two princes."
"Hm?" Vajranga's hand rubbed his rugged chin, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. A sudden gleam of understanding lit up his face.
"Tell Puloman I am entering penance. I won't attend." His voice was deep and resolute.
"Yes, General!" The Asura warrior bowed before swiftly retreating.
Vajranga sat still for a moment, his expression inscrutable. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his gaze sharpened, brimming with purpose.
"Teacher," he whispered, almost to himself, "are you looking for Hiranyakashipu?" His eyes sparkled with a fiery determination.
---
Chapter 38 Throne of Patalaloka
---
Patalaloka: The Asura Temple
The temple stood in shadow, its massive pillars towering like ancient sentinels. Deep scratches from knives and axes adorned the stone, each mark a testament to its age and the violent history of the Asuras. Flames flickered around the temple's perimeter, their light casting eerie patterns on the walls and illuminating faces that alternated between bright and shadowed.
Within the temple, many Asura generals had gathered. They were a diverse assembly—tall or short, fat or thin—but each radiated a fierce, malevolent aura that filled the space with tension.
"I have brought a message. General Vajranga has begun intense penance and will not be attending!"
The sudden report from an Asura soldier broke the uneasy quiet.
Puloman, seated near the center, maintained a calm demeanor. His gaze, however, drifted toward the depths of the temple. At its heart was a raised platform, shrouded in dim light. It was empty save for a dark, imposing throne that loomed in the center. To Puloman, the throne seemed to pulse with an almost magnetic glow.
That was where Hiranyaksha once sat.
"Since Vajranga is occupied with his penance," Puloman began, his voice measured and commanding, "there is no need to wait for him. We must proceed with the discussion here and now."
He stood, pointing a finger toward the gathered generals, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"A Kingdom cannot remain without a ruler, nor can its land go untended. The Asuras need a king. The time has come to decide who will take the throne!"
The generals exchanged glances, their expressions tense. Among them stood notable figures: Viprachitti, Simhika, Shumbha, and Nishumbha. All were once loyal to Hiranyaksha, but his death had left them uncertain, their unity fragile.
"Where is the Asura guru? Without him who will do the Rājyābhiṣeka?" Simhika suddenly demanded, her sharp voice cutting through the murmurs.
Shukracharya, the revered mentor of the Asuras, was pivotal in matters as significant as selecting a new king. His absence was conspicuous and troubling.
Puloman sighed deeply, adopting a look of sorrow. "Alas! After being angered by Hiranyaksha's actions, the teacher has left us. His whereabouts are unknown. Despite our efforts, we have been unable to find him."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. "But the throne of the Asura King cannot remain vacant. We have no choice but to proceed without him and choose a new ruler."
Puloman's tone was resolute, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of dissent.
The gathered generals remained silent, their faces grim as the flames reflected their inner turmoil.
The group standing before Puloman comprised the current Asura generals in power. They were formidable individuals, commanding significant influence and numerous supporters.
Yet Puloman was not intimidated. In his eyes, defeating them would not be overly challenging.
The ones he truly feared were Hiranyaksha, Hiranyakashipu, and Vajranga. Against their might, even he could not prevail. But these generals? They were within his reach, especially with the subtle and deceptive powers of Maya at his disposal.
Puloman held the sons of the mighty Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu in utter disdain.
Hiranyakashipu's son, Saṃhrāda, was wholly unremarkable. His military skills were lackluster, his presence almost insignificant—hardly a figure worth acknowledging. As for his other son, Prahlada, he was nothing more than an infant, utterly inconsequential in Puloman's eyes.
Then there was Hiranyaksha's adopted son—a source of endless amusement to Puloman. The child, found abandoned in the wild, was lucky enough to be taken in and adopted by Hiranyaksha as his stepson. The boy was named Andhaka.
What Puloman found most laughable was that Andhaka was blind. A blind man could never become king. And if he dared to claim the throne, it would only lead to his ruin.
"A blind son!" Puloman thought with disdain. "What could a blind man possibly achieve? He isn't even an Asura. No matter how desperate the Asuras might become, the throne would never fall to someone like him!"
Viprachitti interrupted Puloman's thoughts. "The teacher is absent, and Hiranyakashipu and Vajranga are still immersed in their penance. Perhaps it's better to wait before making any decisions," he suggested cautiously.
Puloman's lips curled in a faint sneer. Viprachitti clearly underestimated the dangers they faced. Did he not understand the strength of the brothers Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu? And once Hiranyakashipu completed his rigorous training, who knew what terrifying new power he might wield?
"That's too late!" Puloman countered sharply. "The Devas have already obtained the Amrita. If they decide to retaliate for our actions at the Kshira Sagara and lead the Svarga's army against us, it will be too late to act! We must make a choice now!"
At that moment, Shumbha stepped forward. His piercing blue eyes and golden markings on his forehead gave him a commanding presence. He waved dismissively and let out a cold snort.
"In that case, let the rules of the world decide," Shumbha declared. "Strength is what matters. The strongest among us should claim the throne of the Asura King. Whoever wins in battle shall rule."
"I agree," said Niṣumbha without hesitation.
Puloman allowed a faint smile to grace his face. "Good! That makes it three to two. So be it!"
With a triumphant expression, Puloman strode out of the hall, his steps confident, and his hand gesturing grandly, as though the Asura throne was already within his grasp.
Boom!
Boom!
The ground trembled violently as if the earth itself was about to be turned inside out. Terrifying shockwaves spread across the land, sending ripples through the very fabric of the world. At the edges of the land, the tectonic plates cracked open, and scarlet magma erupted, spilling out in torrents. The searing heat and the pungent stench of sulfur filled the air, spreading like a plague.
Endless waves of sand and debris rained down from the temple, crashing to the ground and disintegrating into countless fragments of dust.
Inside the temple, everyone was thrown off balance, swaying helplessly from side to side, unable to regain their footing.
"The power of penance!"
"This is the power of ascetic practice—an energy so great it reaches beyond the sky. Someone must have pleased Brahama or Shiva through their pure devotion!"
Viprachitti staggered, his eyes locked on the outside of the temple. An invisible force shot out into the world, tearing through everything it encountered, destroying all in its path.
!!!
Puloman's face twisted with fury. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and glowing a deep scarlet, his expression a jumbled mix of resentment, anger, and disbelief. His hands clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Through gritted teeth, he forced out the words, his voice hoarse with rage.
"Hiranyakashipu!!!"
....
Brahma Loka
A blue-white holy light filled the air, and the fragrant scent of lotus flowers drifted through it. Goddess Sarasvati sat cross-legged upon a lotus, a serene smile in her eyes. In her arms, she gently played the veena, filling the air with the enchanting music of Svarga.
It was another beautiful day in Brahma Loka, though there was one presence that marred the peace.
Brahma sat on a lotus, his snow-white eyebrows slightly raised as his eyes lowered to rest on a chubby, grinning sage below.
This muni perhaps the happiest man in the Triloka, wore a bright orange-red robe and a fragrant garland around his neck. His ever-present, cheerful smile seemed to radiate ease and contentment, and he held a veena of his own.
He was the wandering muni, Narada—ever mischievous, ever bold.
"Narayana Naryana~" Narada Muni chanted, his voice lilting with reverence as he praised Vishnu, his Lord. Then, with a grin, he spread his arms and said, "Father, all the Devas in Svarga have returned, and the threat of Hiranyaksha has been dealt with. Can I leave now?"
Brahma's expression remained unchanged.
"I know you can come and go as you please in the Brahma Loka. There is nothing here to stop you." He paused, his gaze hardening slightly. "But you were the one who told Shukracharya about the Amrita and allowed him to run off to the Kshira Sagara with Hiranyaksha. It caused a great deal of trouble. I had hoped you would remain in peace for a while, but if you refuse, I will have no choice but to keep a closer eye on you."
"Why do you want me to become entangled in family life? Instead, seek the path to Mukti." Narada had asked Haryashvas and Shabalashvas, who were created by Prajapati Daksha to populate the earth.
Narada had tricked the thousand sons of the great Prajapati Daksha, convincing them all to become ascetics and lead a life of renunciation, leaving Daksha with nothing but a multitude of daughters.
This infuriated Prajapati Daksha, who, in his anger, cursed Narada Rishi to never have a fixed abode.
Narada Muni, however, accepted the curse with a smile, pleased by it. He relished the freedom it granted him. The curse allowed him to wander without restrictions, traveling across the Triloka at will, making it easier for him to cause trouble and enjoy himself.
"This is all Rishi Shukracharya's doing," Narada Muni mused, tilting his head and spreading his hands with a soft smile. "I never told him to share this with the Asuras."
"Hum~" Brahma couldn't help but roll his eyes at Narada's words.
At that moment, the sounds of praise echoed throughout Brahma Loka, and the sacred air reverberated, sending ripples through the blue expanse of the realm.
"Om Brahamane namah~"
"Om Brahamane namah~"
…
"There are believers who have achieved perfection through penance!"
Amidst the praises, Brahma's expression gradually softened, and a sense of joy filled his heart. With a smile, golden light radiated from his body, and he vanished from Brahma Loka.
Narada Muni's eyes sparkled at this sight. He clasped his hands together and exclaimed in surprise, "Narayana Narayana~" He then turned and quietly left.
"Narada~ Nath asked you to stay here." The sweet voice of Devi Sarasvati called out behind him.
"I'm just going for a walk!" Narada Muni turned, spreading his hands and shrugging with an embarrassed smile.
Devi Sarasvati smiled, but her silence spoke volumes. She didn't believe him.
Narada Muni clasped his hands together, a pleading look crossing his face as he addressed her, "Please let me go, Mother!"
---
Rājyābhiṣeka is a Sanskrit term that refers to the ceremonial consecration or coronation of a ruler or king, marking their formal anointment and ascension to the throne.
---
Chapter 39 Boon of Hiranyakashipu
---
The Trimurti—the three principal gods, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—represent the cosmic functions of creation, preservation, and destruction, respectively. These gods are self-manifested, emerging not from birth, but from their own divine essence. Brahma, the Creator, is the source of all life, and from him, nearly every form of existence has sprung.
Yet, despite the vast beauty of creation, something was amiss. The universe was void of voice, wisdom, and rhythm. Troubled by this silence, Brahma meditated deeply, seeking a solution. He realized that to breathe true life into his creation, he required something far beyond raw power—he needed Vak, the divine essence of speech, knowledge, and creativity.
From Brahma's mind, radiant as the dawn, emerged Vak, the Goddess of Speech and Wisdom, later known as Saraswati. With her arrival, the silence was shattered, and the universe was imbued with the melody of knowledge, the rhythm of creation, and the voice of wisdom.
Narada Muni on the other hand was Brahma's mind-born son and the first cosmic messenger.
Upon hearing this, Devi Saraswati smiled and shook her head. Her eyelids fluttered slightly before she closed her eyes.
"Thank you, Mother!" Narada Muni exclaimed joyfully, clasping his hands in reverence. He then turned and vanished into Brahma Loka.
"Where should I go next?" He wondered. "That sound of tapasaya must be coming from Patalaloka. My father is there, so I'll head to the Svarga loka instead." Narada smiled to himself as he set off.
…
…
In the heart of a seething magma pool, intense heat radiated, exuding a terrifying power of extreme warmth.
A tall, bare-chested man stood on one foot in the molten lava. His hair was disheveled, his body withered, and his face covered in ashes. Yet, despite his gaunt appearance, his facial features were unmistakably those of King Asura Hiranyaksha, with hardly any difference.
He was Hiranyaksha's twin brother—Hiranyakashipu!
"Om Brahamane namah~"
"Om Brahamane namah~"
Hiranyakashipu tightly shut his eyes, his lips constantly murmuring praise to Brahma, the God of Creation. The immense power of his penance radiated from his body, transforming into countless invisible forces, wreaking havoc on everything nearby. Lava, rocks, and even earth and wood were reduced to ashes under the overwhelming might of his devotion.
A brilliant golden light appeared in the sky, signaling Brahma's descent. Brahma gazed down at Hiranyakashipu, his smile faltering for a moment, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. But now that he was here, there was no turning back. The ritual must be completed.
With a soft grunt, Brahma raised his right hand. A golden light streamed from his palm and descended upon Hiranyakashipu. In that instant, the power of Brahma calmed the magma, dispelled the searing heat, healed the wounds that marred Hiranyakashipu's body, and restored his once-majestic form.
Hiranyakashipu's eyes snapped open. He lowered his gaze to his revitalized body, his eyes narrowing with intense excitement. The long and arduous penance was finally complete!
"You have given everything to this moment. Whatever your heart desires, it shall be yours. Speak, and it will come to pass.," Brahma said slowly.
Hiranyakashipu raised his head, his eyes blazing with anticipation. He spread his arms wide, his voice filled with greed as he made his request. "I want to live forever since I was born!"
"Brahma-pita please fulfil my little wish!" Hiranyakashipu exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement.
"I cannot grant the blessing of immortality! Life is truth, and death is also truth. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are the cycles of existence and the fundamental laws of the universe. The blessing of immortality goes against these laws. Even Shiva and Vishnu cannot bestow such a boon."
"Ask for something else!" Brahma explained.
Upon hearing this, Hiranyakashipu's initial pride and excitement from his successful penance began to fade.
Is that so? His eyes grew calm. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Looking up at Brahma, he clasped his hands together, bowed slightly, and spoke the blessing he had prepared.
"My lord, the greatest of gift-givers! If you are kind enough to grant me a favor, please protect me from harm by the beings you have created!" Hiranyakashipu's voice grew louder, filled with rising excitement and ambition.
"Grant me that I shall not die in any house or outdoors, neither by day nor by night, on earth nor in the sky! Let no being, whether living or non-living, be capable of causing my death. I ask that none of your creatures—be it devas, asuras, or mortals—can harm me! No weapon shall have the power to slay me, nor shall man, beast, or any other creature be able to defeat me!"
"Grant that I may never perish from existence or non-existence and that no divine being, demon, or any force shall be able to take my life! Even the Nagas of the netherworld shall not harm me!"
With his arms raised in a gesture of triumph, Hiranyakashipu shouted:
"No one shall be able to harm me on the battlefield. I will be invincible! No enemy will be able to defeat me! No power will be strong enough to overcome me!"
"Therefore, grant me invincibility, O Lord! Give me the incredible power that I have earned through my penance, a strength I can never lose!"
Hiranyakashipu's eyes gleamed, his voice burning with passion. He waved his arms grandly, as though conducting an orchestra, his words flowing like a powerful chant as he detailed his blessings.
Brahma listened patiently to the blessings Hiranyakashipu desired.
Without a doubt, This request was more challenging than the Hiranyaksha blessing. If there were a grading system for asking for boons, Brahma would undoubtedly give Hiranyakashipu full marks for his logical approach. Indeed, this was no major loophole! It was perfectly aligned with the natural laws.
Brahma's face remained expressionless as he raised his right hand. Streams of golden light descended and merged into Hiranyakashipu's body.
"As you wish."
The words echoed through the air, their sound vibrating with the Sanskrit chant of "tathāstu." In these echoes, Hiranyakashipu could feel profound changes within himself. The immense power of the boon raged through his body.
What is invincibility? Hiranyakashipu now understood—he was invincible!
"It's time to return."
Hiranyakashipu walked barefoot, his strides long and steady, making his way out of the now-calm magma.
Suddenly, three familiar figures appeared before him. The leader, holding a snake staff, was a tall figure with snow-white hair and a cold expression—none other than Rishi Shukracharya.
To the left stood a young man with a handsome face, the son of Hiranyaksha. On the right was another young man, ordinary in appearance, save for the black cloth tightly bound across his eyes—Hiranyakashipu's eldest son, Andhaka.
Seeing them, Hiranyakashipu eagerly stepped forward toward his Asura mentor, Shukracharya.
"Teacher!"
He gave Andhaka and Saṃhrāda a quick glance, signaling them, before clasping his hands together in a respectful greeting to the Rishi. Rishi Shukracharya nodded slightly.
Hiranyakashipu, still beaming with happiness, looked around curiously. "Where is my elder brother?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face.
Rishi Shukracharya's expression stiffened. He turned his head away with a cold snort, his face betraying a hint of discomfort.
Saṃhrāda also looked saddened.
"Father is dead!" Andhaka suddenly spoke, his voice heavy with grief.
Boom!
Hiranyakashipu's body shook, as though struck by lightning. His entire being trembled in disbelief. His eyes widened in shock before filling with tears of sorrow and rage. Murderous intent radiated from him.
"Who did this?!"
Andhaka lowered his head, speaking mournfully. "It was Vishnu, the Preserver of the world, and the King of Svarga who killed my father."
Hiranyakashipu's fists clenched slowly as he absorbed the words. "I will avenge my brother!" he declared coldly, his voice dripping with fury. With that, he turned to leave.
"Wait!" Rishi Shukracharya suddenly stepped forward, raising a hand to stop him.
"The patalaloka is in chaos. Various Asuras and Danavas are fighting for the throne. Before you can take revenge, you must first defeat them and gain the power of the Asura armies. Only then can you become the King of the Asuras."
"In doing so, we will be in a stronger position to confront the King of Svarga and the Preserver of the world," Shukracharya continued.
Hiranyakashipu met the Rishi's gaze, took a deep breath, and quelled the grief and anger that swirled within him.
"I understand," he said hoarsely.
His eyes darkened, and he strode toward the Asura Temple with a powerful, unyielding presence.
"Vishnu, you will pay for this! I will see who dares to stand in my way!"
...
In Svarga, the city sprawled beautifully under the clear skies. Indra was on his way to visit the royal garden.
"Let's plant the Kalpavriksha here," he said, gazing around with a satisfied smile.
---
