Chapter 86 Rift in Brahma Loka
"Move!" Hayagriva barked, his eyes narrowing in fury. He had already made his decision to leave, but if these two refused to comply, they would feel the full force of his wrath. If Vishnu intervened and ruined his plans, it would be disastrous—he would lose not only his life but also his plans. That was an outcome he could not afford.
Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. For a moment, they were silent as if weighing their options. Then, without a word, both extended their right hands simultaneously. In an instant, they clapped them together, and their bodies radiated a surge of invisible power. The wind howled, building into a violent storm that tore through Brahma Loka, ripping the very fabric of space itself.
A tear, in reality, and space-time appeared before them.
Hayagriva's eyes widened as he surveyed the scene. He spotted a distant patch of land covered in flowing magma, its heat rising in waves. The pungent scent of sulfur assaulted his senses, unmistakable and sharp.
Yes… This is the scenery of the patala loka, he thought with satisfaction. The smell of sulfur... authentic, raw.
A grin spread across his face as he gently stroked his mane, the familiar smell filling him with an eager joy. He wasted no time, jumping into the rift with renewed vigor, excitement lighting his every step.
Madhu and Kaitambha turned, their eyes locking onto the Devas with defiance.
"Just wait," Madhu sneered. "This place is ours sooner or later."
"You can't keep it for long," Kaitambha added, his tone cold and full of contempt.
Their words echoed through the air like a promise of trouble. Without hesitation, they both rushed forward, pushing past the remnants of the space they had torn asunder.
Indra clicked his tongue in frustration, unable to hide the irritation on his face. Just like that, some asura could have raided Brahma Loka... he thought bitterly. What are they really up to?
"We won!" Vayu exclaimed, his voice full of disbelief and relief. After so many setbacks, the Devas had finally managed to repel the Asuras. They had regained the glory of the Svarga, and it felt like a hard-earned victory.
It hadn't been easy, but the Devas had come out on top at last.
"It's worth remembering!" Surya added with a smile, his voice brimming with optimism.
Despite the recent failure of their Vimanas' test flight, which had been undeniably frustrating, the mood among the Devas remained high. It paled in comparison to the exhilaration of having repelled the three blessed Asuras. In the grand scheme of things, what did a failed spaceship matter?
"Who cares about the Vimana?" Surya continued, his tone dismissive. "The worst-case scenario is simply going back to the Dev of Craftsman and having it rebuilt. With his abilities, how could the Dev of Craftsman not repair it? What matters most is that we, the Devas, returned victorious!"
Victory! The word rang out in the air like a sweet melody.
"This is the victory our Devas deserve!" Surya proclaimed.
Agni, his face lighting up with enthusiasm, chimed in. "How about we capitalize on this victory, march into the patalaloka, and destroy every last Asura?"
His words were filled with the fire of vindication. The Devas had suffered humiliation at the hands of Hiranyaksha and been captured by Jintan the last time, but now they had finally defeated the Asuras. Their spirits soared.
For the first time in ages, the Devas were brimming with confidence, their pride renewed.
Indra, however, couldn't suppress a sigh. He took a deep breath, then clapped one hand over his face, trying to stifle his mounting frustration. It seemed the Devas were more eager to celebrate than reflect. They had won a small battle, but there was no need to rush into another fight just yet.
"Svarga can't withstand your plans," Indra muttered under his breath.
But before he could elaborate further, Varuna, ever the opportunist, chuckled and spoke up. "I think we should start a banquet to celebrate this hard-earned victory!"
The suggestion lit up the room like a spark.
"Alright! All right!" the Devas and Gandharvas cheered in unison. "That's more like it! Let's celebrate this hard-won victory!"
Indra, standing at the center of the jubilant commotion, shook his head with a knowing smile. Well, he thought, I take back what I said. His brothers didn't just love to make trouble for themselves—they reveled in their moments of relaxation as well. At least they kept their chaos contained and, on top of that, it was more cost-effective than the usual uproar.
Indra cleared his throat, collecting his thoughts. Fine. Let them enjoy this. A little indulgence won't hurt—at least for now.
The sound of conches that had been echoing through the void abruptly ceased, casting an eerie silence over the scene.
Indra, with a reverent expression, clasped his hands together and bowed his head towards the vast expanse.
"Om Nārāyaṇāya Vidmahe!" he declared solemnly.
At once, the other Devas followed suit, their hands joining in prayer as they echoed his words.
"Om Nārāyaṇāya Vidmahe!"
...
The chorus of praises filled the air, their voices carrying with deep devotion. Thanks to Vishnu's divine intervention, they triumphed over the three Asuras in this battle.
Far in the sea of milk, Vishnu lay peacefully on his serpent bed, a soft smile on his lips. He picked up his conch again, the familiar curve of the shell resting in his hand as he gently blew into it. Despite his calm demeanor, there lingered a subtle trace of worry in his eyes.
Meanwhile, in the Brahma Loka, the Devas gathered around Brahma, eager to seek understanding.
"Pranam Lord Brahma!" Indra began, his hands clasped in prayer. "What is the origin of these three Asuras?"
Many other Devas also looked to Brahma with curiosity, silently praying as they awaited his answer. They wanted to understand the origins of these three powerful Asuras who had nearly bested them.
Brahma nodded, his gaze distant as he began to speak, his voice measured and calm.
"The first of these Asuras is Hayagriva," Brahma began, his tone grave. "With the neck of a horse and the body of a man, he hails from the Daitya clan. He has long been engaged in rigorous penance and received a blessing: He could be killed only by another being just like him."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the gathered Devas as Brahma paused briefly, then continued.
"As for the other two, their origins lie in the Preservor of the Brahman," Brahma said, his eyes glinting with a hidden excitement.
The Devas leaned forward, their curiosity piqued as Brahma's words took on a more cryptic tone.
With a shift in his posture, Brahma straightened himself and spoke with renewed fervor, his voice gaining weight.
"Their names are Madhu and Kaitambha. These two were born from Vishnu himself, and their power rivals even that of the King of Asuras—or perhaps even surpasses it. They were gifted with a special boon from Mahadevi herself: they cannot die unless they willingly choose to die."
Brahma's eyes twinkled with a mixture of pride and concern. For years, it had been his blessings that had gone awry, but now, it was Vishnu's turn to face the consequences.
A smirk played on Brahma's lips as he straightened his posture, the excitement in his voice barely contained.
"These Asuras, powerful beyond measure, are now the greatest threat to Svarga. But it is up to Vishnu to handle them."
Indra, hearing this, felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. The situation was far more complicated than he had imagined. Asura powers, bound by divine blessings, were not to be underestimated.
Fortunately, they had mastered Dou Le and were able to defeat the three Asuras with ease. Had it been a direct battle, however, Indra knew the outcome would have been disastrous. He could easily have taken down one of them, but the remaining two would have been more than capable of overwhelming the Devas in a relentless assault.
"Hayagriva, the horse-headed Danava?" Indra mused, his thoughts racing. "Was he here to steal the Vedas?"
Indra had been exposed to many of the stories from Indian mythology, albeit through TV series and the occasional tale passed down through the ages. While he hadn't seen them all, certain details stuck with him. The name "Hayagriva" echoed in his mind, and he suddenly recalled the ancient myth: the most famous legend of Hayagriva revolves around his theft of the Vedas.
Consumed by greed for knowledge and power, Hayagriva stole the sacred texts from the devas, causing great chaos in the cosmos. Vishnu, in his divine incarnation as a horse-headed being (Hayagriva), defeated him after a long battle, restoring the Vedas and maintaining the balance of knowledge in the universe.
After Hayagriva's death, Vishnu's incarnation, Hayagriva, took it upon himself to safeguard the Vedas, ensuring that they would never again fall into the wrong hands.
"So that's it..." Indra thought, realization dawning on him. "This Hayagriva's goal was to steal the Vedas!"
His eyes widened in shock as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
"Then, I hit them in the face this time," he muttered under his breath, his resolve hardening. The next step was clear—he would not allow them to succeed.
Indra took a deep breath, feeling a surge of energy and clarity. He had thought the Brahma Loka was invincible, an unshakable fortress of power. But now he understood: the stability he had taken for granted was fragile, and the Asuras were not as easily defeated as he'd assumed.
With this new awareness, his mind shifted to other possibilities.
"Vaikuntha? Or Kailash?" Indra wondered aloud, considering his next course of action. If he were to leave the Brahma Loka behind, one of these places might provide a more secure foundation for their plans.
But whatever came next, one thing was certain—this battle was far from over.
Kailash is a sacred refuge for ascetics, and Lord Shiva, protector of those seeking spiritual enlightenment, made it a truly divine place.
However, as the leader of the Devas, Indra's responsibilities were far from simple. He couldn't simply retreat to the tranquil heights of Kailash; his duties remained. He would have to wait until Airavata's penance was complete, and only then could he enjoy a well-earned respite.
For the first time, Indra found himself missing his elephant.
The Nth day without Airavata…
"How long has it been?" Indra thought, a slight pang of guilt tugging at his heart.
He couldn't help but reflect. "Am I a bad friend? If I let the rain fall every day for five hundred years, I'd take his place for five years, wouldn't I?"
Indra sighed deeply. His thoughts weren't without kindness, but the weight of leadership often dulled such feelings. As much as he longed for peace, his role demanded constant vigilance.
Shaking off his moment of melancholy, Indra refocused. He clasped his hands together and addressed Brahma with renewed determination.
"Lord Brahma," he began, "These three Asuras did not attack Svarga. They came to Brahma Loka for a reason. There must be a deeper conspiracy at work here."
He paused, letting the tension build.
"They may have come specifically to target you," Indra concluded, his voice steady.
Brahma blinked in surprise. "Target me?" His brow furrowed, his mind racing. What could they possibly want with him?
As he pondered the question, Brahma's eyes shifted, and he caught sight of Indra's gaze falling on something. He followed the line of sight and froze, realization dawning on him.
"Vedas?!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock.
The sacred texts—the very foundation of cosmic order. Did asuras dare to scheme about such a thing now?
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Chapter 87 Devas Sing and Asuras Scheme
"Vedas!" Brahma's voice rang out, his gaze lifting slightly to the left as he fixed his eyes on the sacred texts in his hand. The Vedas pulsed with a radiant glow, a faint aura of wisdom emanating from them. It was as if the very essence of the universe was being gathered and dispensed, its light cascading outward and enveloping the Devas in its divine embrace.
Was Hayagriva truly here to steal the Vedas?
A deep frown settled on Brahma's face, and his expression darkened. Quickly, his thoughts sharpened, and he scanned the entirety of Brahma Loka, assessing the situation. He needed to fortify his loka immediately—no one could be allowed to breach it. If the Vedas were lost, it would spell disaster.
At that moment, Brahma knew that Vishnu, the Protector of the World, would step in to safeguard the sacred texts. And if Vishnu failed, Shiva would certainly intervene. The consequences of losing the Vedas were unthinkable.
Brahma's mind raced, but his gaze remained steady on Indra. The Deva Lord's beard lifted slightly as he offered a serene smile, his voice resonating with a mysterious energy.
"Indra!" Brahma's voice echoed through the entire Brahma Loka. The sound seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the realm, carrying across the vast space and reaching the ears of every Deva, Gandharva, and celestial being present. The vibrations sent a shiver through their beings, infusing them with a burst of energy, their spirits alight with divine power.
Indra's eyes widened, his pulse quickening as he felt the power of Brahma's words wash over him. Was it happening?
Could Brahma be preparing to bestow a blessing upon him?
"You led the Svarga's army to Brahma Loka, and with your war songs, you held firm against the Asuras. Your courage is extraordinary," Brahma continued, his gaze steady and filled with approval. "I bless you."
Indra stood straighter, his body brimming with anticipation. The Devas surrounding him leaned forward, their expressions filled with excitement, hope, and awe. Even the Gandharva army held their breath, their eyes fixed on Brahma—the Creator of all.
What could Brahma's blessing be?
Devi Saraswati turned her head to observe with curiosity, wondering what her husband's divine will would bring.
With a smile that shone as brightly as the sun, Brahma raised his hand, a golden light radiating from his palm.
"I bless you!" Brahma declared, his voice strong and filled with divine power. "Whenever you confront an enemy and your army sings your hymns, you and your entire army will be granted boundless courage. Your enemies will falter, their spirits crushed, their will to fight fading into nothingness."
As Brahma spoke, the golden light from his hand intensified, illuminating the sky like the first rays of dawn. The words "Thata astu! Thata astu! Thata astu!" rang out in unison with the divine power of Brahma's blessing.
Golden streams of light fell from the heavens, bathing each Deva and celestial being present, imbuing them with divine energy. A sense of calm strength flowed through them, their spirits lifted, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Indra's smile faltered ever so slightly.
What war cry?
This blessing... weak?
It wasn't exactly weak—after all, it had the potential to bolster his forces while weakening his enemies. But was it strong? Not in the way Indra had hoped. Against some of the invincible Asuras, this blessing would have little effect. It was more suited for trivial skirmishes, perhaps to crush weaker foes, but not the powerful adversaries he might face.
"But... it can be used alongside Panchajanya," Indra murmured to himself, his thoughts quickly shifting.
His conch, Panchajanya, possessed the ability to boost morale and sap the will to fight his enemies. If combined with the blessing he had just received, it could turn the tide of battle. The Asura armies, particularly the common ones, would find themselves faltering before his might, even if most of the Devas stayed back. The Gandharva army alone could make quick work of them.
How stingy.
Indra's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he grumbled, a little discontented with the modest nature of Brahma's gift.
With a quiet sigh, he cleared his throat twice and clasped his hands in reverence.
"Thank you, Brahma-pita, for your blessing!" Indra exclaimed, his voice full of respect though tinged with the faintest trace of sarcasm. "We shall now offer our song, Mridangam Reverie, in your honor."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Indra's lips. Such a stingy Lord deserves to hear this.
The next moment, a flash of divine light flickered in his hands, and a celestial mridangam materialized in his grip, its polished body gleaming with a golden hue. The Devas, in perfect unison, prepared their instruments, their movements smooth and coordinated.
Dhina... dhina... dhum dhum dhina...
The rhythmic beats of the mridangam filled the air, a deep, resonant tone that seemed to echo through the very fabric of Brahma Loka. A harmonious melody erupted from the Devas' ensemble, each note intertwining in divine symphony.
The vibrations of the mridangam gave life to shimmering patterns of light that danced across the temple. With each strike, lotus flowers bloomed atop the heads of the Devas, their pure white petals drifting gently down, releasing a sweet fragrance that enveloped the realm in serenity.
"Buzz~" The harmonious hum of the song reverberated through the air.
"You are the Creator, the Dev of all things~" the Devas sang, their voices carrying the weight of reverence and devotion. The melody of Mridangam Reverie resonated with an ethereal beauty, its tones filling the heavens themselves.
As the gentle rhythm continued, Brahma gazed at the descending lotus flowers, his expression softening with a sense of deep joy. Slowly, he closed his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The intoxicating sound of the mridangam seemed to wash over him, lifting his spirit higher with every beat.
The Devas are so devoted... Brahma thought, feeling a surge of satisfaction course through him.
This is what true faith looks like!
Unlike the Asuras, who only sought his favor in times of desperation, or the Devas, who often praised him out of mere obligation, this—this felt different. The rhythmic cadence of Mridangam Reverie was a perfect tribute, harmonizing with his divine essence.
This is the kind of devotion that truly pleases me, he mused, basking in the music's transcendence.
Meanwhile, Indra's thoughts were less focused on the music.
The Brahma Loka is no longer secure, he mused, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Where should I train next?
Elsewhere, in the shadows, Hayagriva's sharp eyes glinted with caution as he surveyed Madhu and Kaitambha, standing before him.
"In Brahma Loka, we faced a minor setback. It's all part of my plan; nothing to worry about," Hayagriva declared, his voice steady and calculated.
His eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to his allies. "Next, we move on to Patala Loka. Only once we become the Kings of Patala will we be able to fully carry out our plans."
He paused, considering his words carefully. "Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu are both formidable. They are powerful, not unlike your pair of brothers, and each of them is a Lord of the Realm in their own right. Their blessings, too, are imbued with the strength of immortality and are undefeatable in battles. Hiranyakashipu has also been generous, though I'm not sure if his repairs are complete."
Hayagriva's gaze grew intense. "They have many followers who will fight for them, so we must proceed with caution. We will strike from the shadows and attack their palace in one go."
His voice dropped to a whisper as he laid out the strategy. "We will move silently. If there's only Hiranyaksha in our way, we'll capture him. But if they're all present..."
Hayagriva's lips curled into a sly grin. "Be careful, my friends. We'll fight in secret, and I'll strike when the time is right."
Madhu and Kaitambha exchanged serious glances. They nodded in agreement, their sledgehammers tight in their hands. With quiet precision, they slipped into the Asura temple, ready to carry out their mission.
Inside the Asura Temple, Prahlaada sat cross-legged on his throne, an image of calm and kindness. His face was serene, his attire immaculate, and his hands clasped in prayer. A gentle smile played on his lips as he praised Lord Vishnu with all his heart.
"Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya!" he intoned with reverence.
Prahlaada's voice echoed with sincerity and devotion, his heart swelling with the pure joy of worship. As the song of praise flowed from him, a radiant smile graced his face—his soul at peace, knowing he was fulfilling his sacred duty.
Under the throne, the Asura generals were far from the intimidating warriors they were known to be. Instead of battle robes, they wore loose, ceremonial garments, akin to those worn by priests. One by one, they swayed weakly, their movements sluggish, their faces blank as they muttered their praises.
"Om namo… to the Lord…," one grumbled, barely audible.
"Om namo… whoever he is…" another mumbled, rolling his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Thumbs up… great… job… Vishnu…" yet another sneered, lazily raising his hand in a half-hearted gesture before letting it drop.
Their eyelids drooped as though weighed down by invisible chains, and their words came out with a lethargic, half-hearted rhythm.
Prahlaada, deep in his meditation, sensed the disturbance. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he slowly came out of his reverie. The moment he stirred, the Asura generals straightened, snapping to attention.
Uh-huh!
Prahlaada opened his eyes, and the sight before him caused a faint, approving smile to spread across his face.
"Good!" he said with a nod of satisfaction. "Today's prayers are over. You may return tomorrow."
"Yes, yes, yes!" one of the generals muttered, his eyes darting nervously around the room as he stepped back.
"Clear!" another echoed, his tone far too quick, as if he was ready to flee at the first sign of dismissal.
"Good!" the third responded, barely concealing his annoyance but nodding eagerly as he shuffled away.
The generals practically scrambled out of the temple, eager to leave behind the endless routine. Day after day, this forced praise felt more like torture than devotion.
Once outside, the mood shifted. The once stoic faces of the Asura generals darkened with frustration. One of them, General Rambha, tore at his sacrificial robes in anger, flinging the torn fabric to the ground.
"Hateful!" he spat. "That idiot has forced us to pray to Vishnu again, and now we're stuck wearing these ridiculous clothes! This is too much. Are we really Asuras if we're treated like this?"
Another general, clearly exhausted by the daily grind, sighed. "Stop complaining. Prahlaada is the son of Hiranyakashipu, and he's powerful enough to defeat Puloman. He's the Lord of Patala Loka now. Can you even challenge him?"
Rambha's face twisted with fury as he clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with wrath. "I am done! I can't take this humiliation any longer!" he seethed, his voice full of venom. "No more!"
His resolve hardened like steel. "I will do it," he muttered to himself. "I will perform a penance so fierce, it will shake the heavens themselves! I will ask for a son, a son whose power surpasses everything! Stronger than even Shiva's Nandi, more fearsome than the gods themselves! I will carve a path to victory through his strength!"
At his side, Karambha, his loyal brother, spoke, his voice resolute. "I will join you, brother. Together, we will create a force the world has never seen."
Rambha's eyes gleamed with manic determination, and he pounded his chest in a gesture of self-affirmation. "He shall be Mashisha! His power shall eclipse that of the devas, and he will rule over the realms! With the strength of an ox, the ferocity of a lion, and mastery over Maya's illusions, he will be unmatched—none will dare challenge him!"
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