novelraw Arc 5 - Tirth-Yatra Parva - Chapter 21 - Nivātakavachas and Hiranyapura's End
Arc 5 - Tirth-Yatra Parva - Chapter 21 - Nivātakavachas and Hiranyapura's End
Vaiśampāyana said:
When that hour had passed, Matali vaulted the chariot heaven-ward and showed Arjuna the mansions of the immortals, each palace hung with jewels and watered by perpetual fragrance. Upward the car coursed, and the Gandharvas, Apsarās, and seers stood and worshipped that radiant conveyance. Matali pointed out Nandana and the gardens of the gods; then Amarāvatī itself was revealed—Indra’s city, studded with gems, its trees bearing every fruit desired, a place where sun and cold and fatigue enter not; where grief is unknown, and neither anger nor covetousness disturb the dwellers. Lakes breathed lotus-scent; breezes were cool and sweet; the ground gleamed with gems; the air thronged with winged marvels.
There Arjuna beheld the Vasus, the Rudras, the Sādhyas with the Maruts, the Ādityas and the two Aśvins; he worshipped them, and they blessed him with strength, prowess, fame, skill in arms and victory. Entering the flower-strewn city, he stood before Purandara. Indra, kindly and grave, made room at his side and touched the hero with paternal regard. Thus did Arjuna dwell in heaven, learning the lore of weapons, listening to Gandharva song, and seeing the foremost Apsarās dance. Chitrāsena of the Gandharvas became his friend and taught him the arts of those sky-born hosts. Amid delight and instruction he applied himself most to arms; Śakra took pleasure in his zeal.
Then, when the god deemed him ready, Indra, with hairs of his body bristling in pride, declared that even the celestials could not vanquish him. He praised Arjuna’s watchfulness, truth, mastery and restraint, and told him that by using the fivefold modes aright he had acquired countless weapons and their arts of discharge and withdrawal, revival and penance. But first the preceptor’s fee must be paid.
Arjuna answered: “If it lies within my power, consider it already done.” Indra thereupon revealed the task: the Danavas called Nivata-Kavachas, thirty million in number and armored as one, dwell in the ocean’s womb—slay them, and that shall be thy fee.
Indra crowned him with a diadem, clad him in divine mail, bound the Gandiva with a lasting string, and gave him the celestial chariot of old—Maghavan’s car—driven by Mātali. The gods marveled, saying that on this very car Indra had once overcome Namuci, Vala, Vṛtra and many hosts of Daityas. They bestowed on Arjuna the shell Devadatta from the deep and praised him as the peer of Purandara. Thus armed with shell, mail, bow and inexhaustible quivers, he set forth for the dreadful stronghold of the Danavas.
“O son of Kuntī, rise on the car,
And see the halls where gods abide—
Fruits never fail, and songs are stored,
And grief and weariness have died.”
So spake the heaven, and Arjuna, bright with the gift of gods, rode forth; the steeds flew like thought, the chariot drummed the sky, and the hosts of heaven sent forth their benedictions as he plunged toward the deep where Nivata-Kavachas lay encased in terrible armor and countless as the waves.
Arjuna said:
“At last, O king, after passing through the holy places praised by Maharṣis, I beheld the ocean—the inexhaustible lord of waters.
Its billows rose like living cliffs, rolling and breaking, meeting and parting, thunderous in their might.
Barks by the thousand floated there, laden with gems,
Great makaras and monstrous timingilas moved like mountains submerged,
Tortoises vast as islands swam upon the tide,
And shells unnumbered lay scattered in the deep like stars dimmed by veiling clouds.
Gems innumerable glittered in heaps,
And whirling winds blew fierce and strong,
Wonderful was the sight, O Bharata,
That ocean, vast, eternal, crowned with power.
Then, not far away, I saw the city of the Dānavas,
Glittering, mighty, filled with the children of Diti.
Mātali, skilled charioteer, plunged the car beneath the waves,
And the steeds dashed on, thundering like clouds,
So that the very city trembled at their roar.
The Dānavas, deeming me Śakra himself come to battle,
Rushed forth in fear and fury,
Armed with bows, arrows, javelins, axes, clubs, and swords,
And barred the gates of their undersea city with iron and spell.
Then, taking up my shell Devadatta,
I blew it again and again,
And its tumult filled heaven, earth, and sea,
Echoes rolling through the firmament.
Terrified, the hosts of demons hid themselves,
Yet soon they came forth—
The Nivāta-Kavacas, thousands upon thousands,
Clad in shining mail,
Bearing iron maces, sataghnīs, discs, sabres, and blazing clubs,
Their forms terrible, their ornaments flashing like fire.
Mātali then, wise in paths of war,
Guided the coursers onto level ground,
And so swift were they, O Bharata,
That the earth and sky were blurred,
And I, though steady, beheld naught but speed.
Then the Dānavas sounded their instruments—
Conches, tabors, drums,
Strange and dissonant, wild and fearsome.
At that uproar the fishes, by hundreds and thousands,
Bewildered as though struck by thunder,
Fled in tumult from the ocean depths.
And the Dānavas, loosing volleys of sharpened shafts,
Covered me like clouds in the rainy season,
Their darts fell thick as meteors,
And a dreadful conflict raged,
Destined to end the race of the Nivāta-Kavacas.
Then came the Devarṣis, and the Dānavarṣis,
The Brahmarṣis and the Siddhas,
Gathered to behold the mighty strife.
And those holy seers, longing for my victory,
Chanted praises sweet as those once sung to Indra,
When he strove with Vṛtra and for the sake of Tārā waged war.”
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Vaiśampāyana continued:
Arjuna then described the dreadful illusions conjured by the Nivātakavacas. From the sky fell boulders vast as trees, a mighty shower of crags that shook the field. His chariot groaned under their assault, and the air rang with the crash of falling stone. Yet the son of Pāṇḍu, steady in his might, bent the Gāṇḍīva and loosed the weapon of Mahendra. The arrows blazed like thunderbolts, shattering the rocks to dust, until the sky itself seemed to burn as rocky powder descended like tongues of fire.
When the rain of stones was broken, another horror followed. From the heavens poured down torrents vast as axles, flooding the world with waters that hid the earth and the cardinal directions alike. The roaring of Daityas mingled with the cries of the storm, and the Pandava’s vision was drowned in gloom. Then Arjuna released the fiery Viśoṣaṇa, learned from Indra. Its blazing shafts drank up the torrents, drying the deluge in a breath.
But the asuras did not relent. They spread illusions of fire and wind, storms that scorched and blasts that tore at sky and earth. With watery weapons Arjuna quenched the flames, with mountain-cleaving arms he stilled the winds. Again they wove illusions—blinding showers of stone, gales of fire, floods of water, and a darkness so dense that even the stars seemed swallowed.
The steeds faltered, blinded by the gloom; Mātali dropped the golden lash, crying out in fear as he lost his place.
“Where art thou, Pārtha?
Never before have I faltered!
I have guided the chariot of Indra
through battles against Vṛtra and Vala,
against the hosts of Asura kings.
Yet today this darkness has seized me—
surely this is the doom ordained
for the ruin of all beings!”
Hearing the terror of the charioteer, Arjuna calmed him with steadfast voice:
“Fear not, O Mātali.
Behold the might of my arms
and the bow Gāṇḍīva in my grasp.
Though darkness veil the worlds,
though the demons weave their snares,
by the power of illusion-born weapons
I shall scatter this gloom.
Stand firm, and watch.”
Thus speaking, the son of Pāṇḍu loosed divine missiles. Illusions were dispelled: the fires quenched, the waters dried, the winds broken, and the darkness pierced with light. Yet again the Nivātakavacas returned to the contest, spreading mirages of endless worlds—now light, now darkness, now fire, now flood. Amid their sorcery, Arjuna pressed on, hurling his shafts and cutting down those demons who dared stand revealed.
Arjuna said:
Then there commenced a dreadful shower of rocks, vast as trees torn from their roots, hurled down upon me from the heavens. The earth groaned beneath the assault, and the clash of falling crags shook sky and sea alike. I bent the Gāṇḍīva, invoking the weapon of Mahendra, and loosed swift torrents of flaming shafts. Like Indra’s own thunderbolt they shattered the mountains into powder. From that broken dust arose tongues of fire, as if the sky itself rained flames.
When the rain of stone was scattered, a greater deluge followed. From the vault of heaven descended torrents vast as chariot axles, floods that filled the firmament and veiled every direction. Wind roared, Daityas shouted, and the world lay drowned in water and gloom. I seized the blazing Viśoṣaṇa, taught to me by Indra, and with its flame the floods were drunk up, leaving the field dry once more.
But the Dānavas, masters of deception, spread illusions of fire and wind. Blazing storms scorched me, gales roared with mountain-breaking force. With watery missiles I quenched the flames; with divine weapons I broke the fury of the winds. Yet again they multiplied their sorcery, creating showers of stone and torrents of fire and air, so dreadful that the field seemed swallowed in chaos.
From every side thick darkness fell, impenetrable and suffocating. The steeds turned away, blinded; Mātali slipped from his place, and the golden lash dropped from his hand. In terror he cried again and again:
“Where art thou, O Pārtha?
Never before has my heart faltered.
I drove the chariot of Indra
against Vṛtra and Vala,
against Prahlāda and the sons of Virocana,
through storms of blood and oceans of fire.
Yet never till this day
has darkness seized me so.
Surely the Great-Father ordains destruction,
for this battle seems no less
than the ruin of the universe itself.”
Hearing the fear of my charioteer, I steadied my spirit and spoke with resolve:
“Behold the might of my arms,
the bow Gāṇḍīva in my grasp.
Though darkness veil the worlds,
though illusion bind the sky,
this day I shall scatter their sorcery
and strike down the sons of Diti.
Fear not, O Mātali—
be still, and see the power of my weapons.”
Then for the good of the celestials I unleashed illusion against illusion, conjuring a storm of divine arms that bewildered the asuras. Their magic faltered and the darkness broke; yet again they returned, weaving visions of night and day, of fire and flood, of a world vanishing and reappearing. Amidst this chaos Mātali guided the steeds across that terrible field, while the fierce Nivātakavacas closed upon me once more. Seizing my chance, I smote them with arrows swift as death, sending many to the mansion of Yama. But still they lurked within their veils of illusion, unseen yet deadly.
Arjuna continued:
Remaining invisible, the Daityas fought me by means of their illusions, but I resisted them with visible weapons. The arrows sped from my Gāṇḍīva sought out their hidden stations and severed their heads. Unable to endure, the Nivātakavacas withdrew their magic and fled into their city. When the veil of illusion lifted, I beheld hundreds upon hundreds of their slain, their shattered weapons, ornaments, and sundered limbs scattered across the earth. The ground was so heaped with corpses that the horses could scarcely move, and suddenly, with a bound, they soared upward into the sky.
Then once again the Daityas vanished, and from their concealment filled the heavens with falling crags. Others, burrowing beneath the earth, seized the legs of my horses and the wheels of the chariot, pressing us sorely. The field seemed transformed into a cavern of stone, mountains closing in upon me on every side. My steeds faltered under the weight, and my spirit itself grew troubled. Perceiving my distress, Mātali cried aloud:
“O Arjuna, son of Pāṇḍu,
be not afraid!
Now is the time to summon
the thunderbolt of Indra—
the dread weapon that shatters cliffs
and scatters the hosts of Diti.”
Hearing the command of the charioteer, I invoked the mantras and fitted to my bow the weapon of the thousand-eyed lord. From the Gāṇḍīva flew iron shafts, edged like adamant and charged with the energy of the thunderbolt. They pierced the veil of illusion, tore through the Daityas’ ranks, and smote down the Nivātakavacas in masses, their bodies tumbling like shattered cliffs. Those who had dragged my steeds into the bowels of the earth were driven headlong to the mansion of Yama. The battlefield lay thick with their fallen frames, comparable to broken mountains strewn across the ground. Yet not a hair of the steeds, nor the chariot, nor Mātali, nor I myself had suffered hurt—an event wondrous to behold.
Mātali, turning to me with a smile, said:
“Not even among the gods themselves,
O Arjuna,
is prowess seen such as thine.
Thou hast done what Indra could not,
and the Daityas, long unconquered,
have fallen by thy hand.”
From the city there arose wailing, the lament of countless women, shrill as cranes in autumn, mourning their slain. With Mātali I drove into the demon capital, the thunder of my chariot wheels terrifying the wives of the fallen Nivātakavacas. Seeing the ten thousand steeds, shining like peacocks, and the chariot radiant as the sun, the women fled in swarms. Their ornaments fell clattering, like rocks loosed from a mountain-side, as they ran to the safety of their jeweled palaces.
Beholding that splendid city, radiant with gems, superior even to Amarāvatī, I asked Mātali: “Why do not the gods dwell in such a place? Surely this surpasses the abode of Purandara himself.”
Mātali replied: “Once, O Pārtha, this city belonged indeed to the king of the celestials. But the Nivātakavacas, through fierce austerities, won boons from the Grandfather, that they might dwell here free from the gods’ assault. The celestials were driven forth, and only thou—ordained by destiny—couldst break their power. Indra himself was told by Brahmā: ‘In another body shalt thou destroy these Daityas.’ For this purpose the weapons of heaven were entrusted to thee, and in the fullness of time thou hast come hither and accomplished their destruction.”
Arjuna said:
After subduing the Daityas and conquering their mighty city, I turned my car once more towards the heavens, returning with Mātali to the resplendent abode of the celestials.
As Matali guided the celestial steeds back from the battle with the Nivātakavachas, my eyes were drawn to a wonder beyond imagining. Before us appeared a city unearthly, radiant with its own light, moving at will across the sky. Its towers glistened like the sun, its walls shone with gems of every hue, its avenues were lined with trees that bore blossoms and fruits wrought of crystal and pearl.
And within that city, countless Asuras—garlanded, armed with maces, swords, and bows—roamed with laughter and pride. The air resounded with the calls of strange birds, their plumage glowing like jewels. Bewildered by its splendour, I turned to Matali.
“Tell me,” I asked, “what city is this, moving like a star across the firmament, beautiful beyond Amarāvatī itself?”
A city golden, bright as flame,
Gift of Brahmā, none could tame;
For Pulomā and Kālaka’s line,
He raised this fortress, vast, divine.
Safe from gods, from sages, strong,
They dwelt secure with dance and song;
But fated yet by mortal hand,
To perish when the hour was planned.
Matali replied: “O Pārtha, this is Hiranyapura, won by austerity and granted by Brahmā himself. The Paulamas and the Kalakanjas dwell here, invincible to gods, Dānavas, or serpents. Yet they were destined to fall—not to the celestials, but to a mortal hero. You are that chosen one, armed with Indra’s thunderbolt.”
Hearing this, I stood firm in my chariot. “Then speed me near, O charioteer! Let no foe of the gods remain unpunished. By my bow shall Hiranyapura fall.”
So saying, I strung the Gāṇḍīva and blew the conch Devadatta. Its terrible sound shook the quarters, and the Asuras, startled, swarmed forth from their shining gates with weapons raised.
They came like stormclouds thick with rain,
Their darts and maces filled the plain;
The sky grew dark with shafts they bore,
Their war cries rose like ocean’s roar.
But I with arrows swift and bright,
Cut through their ranks with deadly might;
Like bees my shafts in swarms did fly,
And heads fell rolling from the sky.
Pressed hard, the Daityas withdrew into their aerial city and lifted it into the heavens. Hiranyapura rose and plunged, sometimes vanishing into waters, sometimes coursing like the sun through the firmament, sometimes diving into the very earth. Yet wherever it moved, I loosed my arrows, striking its battlements till sparks and fragments fell like stars.
Still the hosts of Asuras encircled me—sixty thousand cars wheeling in fury. Weapons clashed with weapons; showers of maces and axes rained upon us. For a moment the burden grew heavy upon me, yet my heart remembered Śiva.
I bowed within, and invoked the dreadful Raudra weapon.
From the bow flashed fire and flame,
Raudra’s terror none could tame;
Forms unnumbered filled the sky—
Tigers roared and lions cried.
Serpents coiled with blazing eyes,
Buffaloes and bulls did rise;
Ghosts and ghouls in thousands came,
Wreathed in smoke and tongues of flame.
The heavens cracked, the earth did shake,
The seas did thunder, mountains quake;
And struck by Raudra’s fearful breath,
The Daityas met their certain death.
One by one their splendid chariots fell blazing from the sky. The aerial city, battered by the storm of arrows and weapons, shattered like a mountain struck by Indra’s bolt. Hiranyapura, once radiant with jewels, now darkened and broken, vanished from the firmament like a dream dissolving.
Then arose the lamentations of the Asura women.
With loosened hair and tear-dimmed eyes,
They raised to heaven their wailing cries;
“Alas, our lords! our sons! our kin!”
They struck their breasts in grief and sin.
Their ornaments fell, their voices broke,
Like cranes in autumn’s mist they spoke;
The mighty city, stripped of pride,
Lay ruined, and its glory died.
When all was done, Matali guided me back to the seat of the Thousand-eyed. And before Indra and the Maruts, the tale was told: how the Nivātakavachas were slain, how Hiranyapura was broken, how destiny had been fulfilled.