novelraw Arc 3 - Astika - Chapter 9 - Garuda Recovers the Elixir Of Life
Arc 3 - Astika - Chapter 9 - Garuda Recovers the Elixir Of Life
Sauti continued
O foremost of Brahmanas, the gods, having made their preparations for battle, stood alert and armed in shining mail around the sacred vessel of Amrita. Then Garuda, king of birds, radiant and dreadful, descended upon them like a thunderbolt from the heavens. The very sight of him—his vast wings darkening the sky, his talons gleaming like razors—struck fear into the gods, who began attacking each other in confusion, bewildered by the dust storm his wings had raised.
Among the defenders stood Vishwakarma, the divine architect, a being of measureless might and blazing energy. But even he, after a moment's resistance, lay vanquished—felled by Garuda's merciless talons, beak, and wings. The rest of the gods, blinded by dust, their senses reeling, could no longer even perceive their foe. Thus Garuda, in that single furious instant, ravaged the heavens, shattered the ranks of the immortals, and soared toward his goal.
Then the god of a thousand eyes, Indra, seeing his warriors blinded and confused, called upon Vāyu, the wind-god, saying,
"O Maruta, this is your task—drive away this blinding dust!"
Obeying instantly, Vāyu, mighty and swift, cleared the skies, scattering the storm with his powerful breath. And as clarity returned, the gods, led by Indra, launched a full assault on Garuḍa.
Then did the skies resound with the clamor of divine weapons: gleaming swords, jagged maces, sun-like discs, radiant spears, and fiery arrows flew in every direction. Yet Garuḍa, rising aloft, roared like the clouds at the end of a yuga. That cry alone sent tremors through the three worlds. With wings outstretched and eyes blazing like twin suns, he rushed upon the gods, striking with beak and talon, with breast and wing.
Blood rained from the heavens—celestial bodies mangled, armor shattered, pride humbled. The Sādhyas and Gandharvas fled eastward, the Vasus and Rudras toward the south, the Ādityas to the west, and the Aśvins, gods of healing, took flight to the north—each retreating under the weight of awe and injury, casting backward glances at the relentless king of birds.
Then came forward the Yakṣas—beings of great strength and courage—among them Ashwakarṇḍa, bold Reṇuka, Kratanka the fearless, Tapana, Ulūka, Svaśnaka, Nimiṣa, Praroruja, and Pulina. Each of them rushed against Garuḍa with thunderous force, hoping to stop the sky-ranger’s advance.
But Garuḍa, burning with purpose and blazing like Śiva himself in cosmic wrath, tore into them with wing, talon, and beak. One after another, the mighty Yakṣas were hurled back, their bodies torn and bloodied. They looked like dark clouds pierced by shafts of fire, bleeding rain upon the heavens.
Having slain the Yakṣas, Garuḍa approached the guarded treasure of the gods—the pot of Amṛta. But surrounding it on all sides was a fire so terrible and vast that its flames reached up to the heavens, driven by winds that seemed eager to scorch even the sun itself.
But Garuḍa, ever resourceful and fierce in will, assumed a form of ninety times ninety mouths. With them, he drank the waters of countless rivers, gathering the floods within him. Then, flying back with the speed of thought, he released that deluge upon the fire and extinguished it entirely.
With the fire vanquished, he diminished his size to that of a needle’s eye, preparing to enter the final sanctum that housed the immortal Soma.
Having taken the form of molten gold, radiant as the midday sun, Garuḍa surged like a flood into the sanctum of the gods where the Soma was kept. Guarding it, he saw an ever-turning wheel of steel—razor-sharp and terrifying, whirling with the speed of thought. It had been placed there to rend into fragments any who dared approach the Amṛta.
But Garuḍa, undaunted, saw the subtle play of its revolving spokes. In the blink of an eye, shrinking his form to the smallest measure, he passed between them without injury.
Inside that guarded circle were two serpents of terrible power, eyes ablaze with poison, tongues like lightning, and flames pouring from their mouths. Such was their fury that even a glance from them could reduce a being to ashes.
Yet the mighty son of Vinatā, swift and cunning, stirred up dust with his wings and blinded their wrathful gaze. Then, attacking unseen, he tore them to pieces with his beak and talons.
Without delay, he seized the jar of Amṛta and, rising high into the sky, shattered the revolving steel wheel that once guarded it. Without even tasting the nectar himself, Garuḍa sped away, darkening the brilliance of the sun as he soared.
Sauti continued:
And while Garuḍa, foremost among the sky-rangers, soared through the heavens bearing the Amṛta, the mighty Indra hurled at him the thunderbolt, the Vajra wrought from the bone of the sage Dadhīci. The weapon, blazing like a comet, struck Garuḍa.
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But Garuḍa, though struck, laughed aloud and said to Indra in words soft yet filled with power:
Garuda said:
“O Purandara, wielder of the Vajra,
For the sake of the sage Dadhīci,
Whose bone thou wieldest, I honour thy weapon.
For thy thousand sacrifices, I honour thee.
Lo, I cast but a feather—
Even this you shall never truly measure.
Though struck, I feel no pain;
This thunder is light to me.”
And having spoken thus, the great Garuḍa plucked a single feather from his vast wing and let it fall to the earth. All creatures, beholding that feather, bright as lightning and vast as a cloud, rejoiced and marvelled. From that moment, the mighty bird was named Suparṇa—He of Beautiful Feathers.
And Indra, watching with awe the calm defiance and glory of the bird, recognized the marks of a being destined for greatness. Humbled, he addressed Garuḍa.
Indra said:
“O best of birds, I desire to know
The limits of thy boundless strength.
Let eternal friendship bind us,
O Suparṇa, bearer of heaven’s wind.”
And Garuḍa, with calm dignity, replied to Indra’s friendly request.
Garuda said:
“O Purandara, thou wielder of the thunderbolt,
Let our bond be forged in friendship as you will.
Yet know this, my strength is vast and hard to bear.
The good proclaim not their own glory,
Yet, being made a friend and asked by thee,
Hear now of what I may bear.
On a single feather of mine I can uphold
The earth with all her mountains,
With her forests deep and oceans vast—
And thee, O king of gods, upon it too.
Indeed, I could carry without fatigue
The whole cosmos—moving and unmoving—
On but a part of me.”
Thus, did Garuḍa, radiant with power yet bathed in humility, declare his strength—not in pride, but in response to friendship. And Indra, deeply pleased, embraced the kinship with one who bore the heavens on his wings.
Sauti continued: Then Garuḍa of great might, the bearer of celestial radiance, turned to Indra, lord of the gods, and said with calm resolve, “O Thousand-Eyed One, the Amṛta I bear is not for my own gain. I shall not let any creature drink it. But I must set it down for a time, for a vow is upon me. Once I do, you may reclaim it—take it swiftly when I have fulfilled my purpose.”
Hearing this, Indra, deeply pleased and reassured, smiled and spoke with grace.
“O Suparṇa, splendid son of Vinatā,
Thou art unmatched in wisdom and strength.
A heart such as thine, pure and true,
Is rare among gods and mortals too.
Therefore, ask of me a boon—
Whatever thy heart desires,
Let it be granted without delay.”
Thus, did Garuḍa, once feared, now honored, win the respect of the king of the Devas. In truth and restraint, his might found purpose, and his flight, a higher aim.
Sauti said: Garuḍa, with the golden glow of a hundred suns, remembered his vow—his promise to the serpents, and the cruel wager that had enslaved his mother Vinatā. With eyes blazing like fire and a voice like rolling thunder, he spoke unto Indra:
“Though I hold sway over all the worlds,
Though none may stand against my flight,
Yet shall I abide by thy word, O King of Gods.
Let the snakes, O Śakra, become my food.
For thus shall I redeem my mother’s grief,
And repay my debt of birth and life.”
And Indra, destroyer of Daityas, pleased at heart, said unto him, “Be it so.”
Then he went unto Viṣṇu, the wielder of the conch and discus, the god of gods, and told him all. The preserver of the worlds, the eternal Nārāyaṇa, nodded in consent, and so was sealed the pact.
And once more Indra, lord of the heavens, turned to Garuḍa and said, “Place down the Amṛta as promised, and I shall take it away.”
Thus, they parted in harmony.
Garuḍa, swift as the thought of sages,
Soared through the sky like a streak of fire,
To where his mother waited still,
Bound by fate, yet soon to rise.
Sauti said:
And Garuḍa, glowing like a golden sun,
Descended upon the earth and spoke aloud:
“O sons of Kadru, behold the Amṛta,
Fetched by me from the realm of gods.
Let me place it here on sacred kuśa grass.
Perform your rites, your oblations pure,
Then drink, and as agreed, let Vinatā be free.”
The serpents, with hearts exultant, said,
“So shall it be,”
And to the river they hastened,
To bathe and pray.
But fate had other plans.
For while the snakes went to their devotions,
The thousand-eyed Indra,
Watcher of sacrifices,
Came like a wind and stole away
The pot of nectar from its kuśa bed,
And soared back to the heavens.
When the serpents returned with dripping hoods
And minds ablaze with longing,
They saw—no nectar, only grass.
And thinking, “Here it lay,” they licked the blades
Where Amṛta once had touched,
And thus their tongues were split in twain,
A mark they bear to this very day.
From that moment on,
The kuśa grass became sacred,
Touched once by the divine draught
That grants immortality.
Thus was Garuḍa’s vow fulfilled,
Thus was Vinatā freed,
And thus were the snakes deceived
By the fate they themselves had devised.
Then the mighty Garuḍa,
Bird of infinite flight and golden plumes,
Rejoiced in freedom and in filial piety.
With his noble mother Vinatā by his side,
He roamed the forests and skies at will,
And fed upon the serpents—the sons of deceit—
Fulfilling the boon granted by Indra.
The gods and the Ṛṣis sang his name,
The heavens bore witness to his deeds,
And he, revered by all winged beings,
Became lord of the skies and nemesis of the Nāgas.
And it is said:
He who hears this tale of Garuḍa the Great,
Who recites it amidst noble Brahmanas with faith,
Shall ascend to heaven, adorned in merit,
His sins washed away; his name sanctified.
Such are the blessings that flow
From the story of the son of Vinatā.