novelraw Arc 6 - Markandeya-Samasya Parva Chapter 9 - Atharvan’s Quest
Arc 6 - Markandeya-Samasya Parva Chapter 9 - Atharvan’s Quest
Mārkaṇḍeya continued:
“O son of Dharma, listen further to the mystery of the fires and their progeny. Uktha, the great Agni praised in the hymns, performed a penance of terrible austerity, enduring for many years, desiring to obtain a son who would rival Brahmā himself in reputation and splendour.
When at last the Vyāhṛti hymns were invoked at the five sacred fires, and when the sages Kāśyapa, Vasiṣṭha, Prāṇa and his son, Cyāvana son of Aṅgiras, and Suvarchaka poured their tapas into the rite, there arose a radiant Being of immense creative force.
Its head blazed with fire’s red flame,
its arms shone bright like the midday sun;
its eyes and skin were golden-hued,
its feet were dark like rain-laden clouds.
This five-coloured splendour it bore from the five sages, for each imparted the hue of his penance. Therefore, the seers declared that this celestial being belonged to all five, and from him sprang five lineages of men.
For ten thousand years he practised austerities, until his ascetic might gave birth to the terrible Pitṛyajña Fire, by which the manes were to be sustained. From his head and mouth arose Vṛhat and Rathantara, day and night, who ever steal away the lives of creatures. From his navel came Śiva, from his power was born Indra, from his very soul emanated Wind and Flame. From his two arms were produced the sacred tones of hymns, Udatta and Anudatta. He also brought forth the mind, the five senses, and other beings manifold.
From him came the five sons of the Pitṛs:
Pranidhi, son of Vṛhadratha,
Vṛhadratha, son of Kāśyapa,
Bhānu, god-son of Cyāvana,
Saurabha, son of Suvarchaka,
and Anudatta, son of Prāṇa.
Thus were twenty-five beings born of his creative will.
But Tapa, the ascetic fire, brought forth also fifteen other gods—fierce obstructors of sacrifice—Subhima, Bhīma, Atibhīma, Bhīmavāla, Āvala, Sumitra, Mitravaṇa, Mitasīna, Mitravardhana, Mitradhārāman, Surapravīra, Vīra, Suveka, Suravarchas, and Surahantrī.
Divided into three companies of five,
they wander upon the earth below;
spoiling the offerings poured in heaven,
they thwart the rites of gods on high.
Yet when appeased by hymns and honoured with oblations laid outside the altar, they cease from mischief and carry the offerings of their votaries on swift wings.
Another son of Tapa was Vṛhaduktha, belonging to Earth herself, worshipped in Agnihotra by pious men. Of the son called Rathantara, the priests say that the offering made in his honour is in truth dedicated to Mitravinda.
Thus, O Bharata, the celebrated Tapa, father of many fires, rejoiced in the sons who were born of his tapas.”
Mārkaṇḍeya continued:
“O son of Kuru’s race, hear further of the fires born of Tapa and Bhānu.
The fire called Bharata was bound by strict rules of asceticism. He is also named Puṣṭimat, for when propitiated he grants nourishment and increase to all creatures. Thus is he called Bharata—the Cherisher.
Another fire is known as Śiva, devoted to the worship of Śakti, the presiding force of Nature. Because he relieves the suffering of all afflicted beings, he is known as Śiva—the Auspicious Giver of Good.
When Tapa had gathered the wealth of tapas, he begot a wise son named Puranda, and another, Uṣmā, the fiery presence observed in vapour rising from matter. A third son, Manu, became Prajāpati, the progenitor of beings. Then is spoken of the fire Śambhu, praised by Brāhmaṇas, and after him the bright Āvasathya fire, radiant as gold. These were called the five Ūrjaskara fires, who partake of Soma at sacrifices.
When the Sun, weary after his course, assumes a gentler form, he is called the Praśānta fire. Yet that same radiant being created fierce Asuras and many creatures of earth.
From Aṅgiras came Prajāpati Bhānu, also named Vṛhadhbhānu by the Veda-knowers. Bhānu took to wife Suprajā and also Bṛhadhbhānū, daughter of the Sun. From them were born six sons, listen now to their names.
The first was Valada, giver of strength,
who uplifts the weak with hidden might.
The second, Manjuman, fierce of gaze,
terrible when all elements lie still.
The third son, called Aṅgiras Dhṛtimān, is the fire honoured at Darśa and Paurṇamāsa rites, known in this world as Viṣṇu Agni. The fourth, Āgrāyaṇa, receives oblations together with Indra at the Agrāyaṇa rite. The fifth, Āgraha, is source of the offerings made in the Cāturmāsya sacrifices. The sixth, Stuva, completes their line.
Bhānu’s other wife, Niśā, bore one daughter, the two Agniśomas, and five additional fire-gods. Of these, the resplendent Vaiśvānara is honoured with first oblations together with the deity of the clouds. The second, Viśvapati, is lord of all worlds. The daughter born was Sviṣṭakṛt, so called because oblations to her yield great merit. Though once daughter of Hiraṇyakaśipu, she became his wife by her evil acts; yet she is counted among the Prajāpatis.
Another fire is Sannihita, seated in the vital airs of beings, animating their bodies and enabling the senses of sound and form. Another is Kapila, stained with black and white, supporter of Agni, sinless yet accomplisher of karma, revered as a great Ṛṣi and the sage of Sāṅkhya. Agrāṇi is the fire through whom the elemental spirits receive their share of offerings.
But hear now of the laws of rectification when the sacred fires are disturbed:
If winds cause the fires to mingle,
the rite of Aṣṭakapāla must be done for Śuci.
If the southern fire touches the others,
then Aṣṭakapāla must honour Viti.
If the Niveśa fires come in contact with Devāgni, the Aṣṭakapāla must again appease Śuci. If the perpetual fire is touched by a woman in her monthly course, the rite must honour Dasyumān. If during Agnihotra death is spoken of, or creatures perish, the rite must appease Suramān.
Should a Brāhmaṇa fall ill and fail for three nights to pour oblations, let him atone with Aṣṭakapāla to the Northern Fire. If one who has performed Darśa and Paurṇamāsa must purify the rite, let it be done with offerings to Pātikṛt. And if the lying-in chamber’s fire touches the perpetual fire, rectification must be made with Aṣṭakapāla to Agnimān.
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Thus, O Yudhiṣṭhira, the fires are innumerable, each with form, name, and duty. Some cherish, some cleanse, some rectify, and all are to be honoured with hymns and offerings.”
Mārkaṇḍeya continued:
“O descendant of Bharata, hear now of the mysteries of Fire, who is one and yet manifold.
Swāhā, the universal flame, had as his beloved wife Mudita, who dwelt within the waters. By her, he begot the sacred fire Adbhuta, also called Advanta, the inner ruler and the soul of all beings. Resplendent and worshipful, Adbhuta is the regent of the sky, the prince of the great Bhūtas, and under the name Gṛhapati, he conveys to the gods every oblation cast into the flames of sacrifice.
From Adbhuta was born the Bharata Fire, that consumes the bodies of the dead and leads them onward. His first Kratu is called Niyata, honoured in the Agniṣṭoma rite. But whenever Niyata approaches him, the prime Fire trembles with fear of contamination and hides himself in the waters of the sea.
The gods sought Agni everywhere,
but he vanished, hiding in the deep.
Unto Atharvan he spake these words:
‘Take up the offering, for I am spent.’
Yet Atharvan, though entreated, at first refused. Then Fire, the red-eyed carrier of oblations, surrendered his mortal body.
From that body arose the treasures of the earth:From his pus came force and fragrance,From his bones, the towering Devadāru pine,From his phlegm, shining glass,From his bile, the green Marakata jewel,From his liver, black iron,From his nails, the clouds,From his veins, red coral,And from his marrow, many other metals.Thus was the world adorned with wood, stone, and iron, born of Agni’s sacrifice.
But the finny tribes, betraying his place of concealment, earned from him a curse:
“Henceforth ye shall be food for all,
your flesh the sustenance of every being.”
Roused again by the austerities of Bhṛgu and Aṅgiras, Fire blazed forth, but on seeing Atharvan once more fled into the waters. At his extinction the world trembled, until Atharvan, searching the ocean’s depths, discovered him and restored him to life. Thereafter Fire resumed his eternal duty—bearing to the gods the offerings of men, wandering through seas and lands, and manifesting in countless forms.
Know, O king, that the rivers themselves are the mothers of Fire. From them arise his many manifestations. The Sindhu, the five streams of the Pañjāb, the Śoṇa, the Devikā, the Sarasvatī, the Gaṅgā, the Śatakumbhā, the Sarayū, the Gaṇḍakī, the Carmanvatī, the Mahī, the Medhā, the Medhātithi, the Tamravatī, the Vetravatī, the Kauśikī, the Tamasā, the Narmadā, the Godāvarī, the Veṇā and Upaveṇā, the Bhīma, the Vādavā, the Bhāratī, the Suprayoga, the Kāverī, the Murmurā, the Tuṅgavaṇṇā, the Kṛṣṇavaṇṇā, and the Kapilā—all these rivers are mothers of Fire.
Adbhuta took as wife Priyā, who bore him sons, the eldest being Vibhu. And as many as there are Soma sacrifices, so many are the fires born of this lineage.
All these flames are one in essence,
sprung from the Spirit of Brahmā,
conceived again by Atri’s mind,
to extend the worlds of beings.
Born from the body of Aṅgiras,
they shine in diverse forms,
yet they are one—
the first-born Fire, eternal,
the destroyer of darkness,
the carrier of oblations,
the bridge between men and gods.
Thus, O Yudhiṣṭhira, have I told thee the race of Fire. Worshipped with proper hymns, they carry the offerings of all creatures unto the divine.”
Mārkaṇḍeya continued:
“O sinless scion of the Kurus, I have already spoken to thee of the many branches of the race of Agni. Hear now of the wondrous birth of Kārttikeya, son of Fire, luminous commander of the celestials, whose glory shines across the three worlds.
In ancient days, when the gods and Asuras strove ceaselessly against one another, the hosts of heaven were often defeated. The Daityas and Dānavas, fierce and terrible, brought ruin upon the armies of the immortals. Seeing his celestial forces scattered and broken, Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt, was consumed with anxiety.
“Who shall arise,” thought the king of gods,
“to lead the devas in their hour of peril?
One mighty in arms, one radiant in spirit,
who can restore order to our shattered host.”
Thus pondering, Indra ascended the sacred peaks of the Mānasa mountains, his mind heavy with care. There, amidst the silence of forests and crags, he heard the piercing cry of a woman in distress:
“O save me! Let some protector arise—
grant me a husband, or be my lord thyself!”
Indra, moved with compassion, called out:
“Fear not, O lady of lovely form!”
But even as he spoke, there appeared before him Keśin, an Asura towering like a mountain of gleaming ore. Upon his head was a crown; in his hand he brandished a mace. He held the weeping woman by the wrist, his eyes red with violence.
Indra addressed him sternly:
“Why, O Keśin, dost thou act so insolently?
Know me—I am Śakra, wielder of the thunderbolt.
Release this lady and desist from evil.
Do not bring destruction upon thyself!”
But the Asura, laughing harshly, replied:
“Leave her to me, O slayer of Vṛtra.
I desire her for my own.
Do not think thou wilt depart alive
after crossing my path today.”
So saying, Keśin hurled his mighty mace at Indra, seeking to crush him. But the thousand-eyed god clove it in mid-air with his vajra. Enraged, the Asura seized a mountain peak and flung it down with a roar. Again did the thunderbolt shatter it, breaking it into fragments that crashed upon the ground. One fragment struck Keśin himself, wounding him grievously.
Reeling in pain, the Asura fled the field, abandoning the trembling lady.
Then Indra, protector of the worlds, approached her gently and asked:
“O noble woman of radiant beauty,
who art thou, and whose beloved wife?
What fate hath led thee here,
to fall into the hands of a wicked Asura?”
Mārkaṇḍeya continued:
The lady, trembling yet steadfast, addressed Indra:
“I am Devasenā, daughter of Prajāpati,
my sister Daityasenā hath been seized already by this Keśin.
With her I once roamed these Mānasa mountains,
seeking delight with our maidens, sanctioned by our sire.
But Keśin, the fierce Asura, pursued us both.
My sister lent ear to his advances, and was borne away.
I, who rejected him, he sought to drag by force—
yet thou, O slayer of Pāka, hast saved me with thy might.
Now, O lord of celestials, grant me this boon:
select for me a husband invincible,
whom gods and Asuras shall alike revere.”
Indra, moved, yet cautious, replied:
“O fair one, thou art my kinswoman—
thy mother being sister to Dakṣāyaṇī, my own mother.
Tell me then, what strength and glory dost thou seek in thy lord?”
Devasenā answered with humility and resolve:
“Weak am I, Avalā they call me,
yet my husband must be great in power.
By my father’s boon, such a lord shall be worshipped
by gods, by Asuras, and by all beings.
He must be strong in Brahma’s devotion,
able to conquer celestials and Dānavas,
Yakṣas, Kinnaras, serpents and Rākṣasas,
to subdue the worlds alongside thee, O mighty one.”
Hearing her words, Śakra grew pensive. No being as yet alive seemed to match that description. At that very moment he gazed eastward: the Sun was mounting the Udaya hill, while Soma slipped within his blazing disc— for it was the dark night of the new moon.
A terrible conjunction shone forth:
The heavens blazed crimson with blood-red clouds.
Varuṇa’s abode turned scarlet.
Agni, carrier of offerings, entered the Sun’s orb, bearing oblations chanted by Bṛghu and Aṅgiras.
The twenty-four Parvans decked the Sun’s wheel.
Soma and Agni both mingled within the solar blaze.
“This,” thought Indra, “foretells a mighty battle.
Sindhu flows red as blood,
jackals cry with fiery mouths.
Yet perhaps—perhaps—
from this wondrous union of Soma and Agni
a son may arise, worthy of Devasenā,
born to lead the hosts of heaven.”
Thus resolved, he took the maiden before Brahmā, the grandsire. Indra bowed and said:
“O Lord of creatures, assign unto this lady
a husband mighty and renowned,
who shall command our forces in the battle
against the relentless Asuras.”
Brahmā answered with benediction:
“So shall it be. From Agni and Soma,
a child of fire and nectar shall be born.
Mighty will he be, and irresistible;
he shall be Devasenā’s husband,
joint-leader of thy hosts, O Śakra.”
With Brahmā’s word confirmed, Indra and the maiden returned. They repaired to the holy sacrifice of the great Ṛṣis—Vasiṣṭha and the others—where the devas had gathered to partake of Soma.
The Ṛṣis kindled the blazing fire and offered oblations with sacred hymns. From the solar disc came forth Adbhuta Agni, the wondrous fire, silent and resplendent, and entering the sacrificial flames, he carried the offerings heavenward.
But as he turned away, his gaze fell upon the wives of the seven seers, lying in their hermitages.
They shone like molten gold—
spotless as moonbeams, radiant as stars,
their forms gleaming like tongues of flame.
Desire smote Agni’s heart. He wrestled within himself:
“These are chaste and faithful, beyond reproach.
I may not approach them; I may not defile them.
Yet my heart is seized—
how shall I endure this fire within me?”
Resolving, he thought:
“Let me dwell among them as the household fire,
the Gārhapatya Agni,
ever in their presence, unseen,
feeding my longing by their light alone.”
So Agni, transformed into the household flame, lingered in their hermitages. But the fire of passion only grew, consuming him inwardly. Failing to win their hearts, tortured by longing, he resolved to destroy himself and fled to the forest.
Now, at this time, Svāhā, daughter of Dakṣa, cherished secret love for the fire-god. Long had she watched him, waiting to discern a weakness; yet never had she found him unguarded.
But now, beholding Agni broken by desire, her heart too inflamed with longing, she conceived a plan:
“I shall assume the forms of the wives of the seven Ṛṣis,
and in their likeness, I shall approach the fire-god.
Thus shall his desire be satisfied,
and my own long-cherished love fulfilled.”