novelraw Arc 3 - Astika - Chapter 18 - Deliverance of the Nagas
Arc 3 - Astika - Chapter 18 - Deliverance of the Nagas
Thus did the noble Astika, with verses sweet and true, win the hearts of all assembled and cause the king himself to turn his gaze upon the radiant youth.
Sauti said, Astika, having thus adored them, gratified all present—the king of infinite achievements, the Sadasyas, the Ritviks, and the sacred fires—his words humble yet radiant with wisdom. And King Janamejaya, beholding strange signs and portents arise—the flames wavering, the winds growing still, the air turning heavy—spoke aloud before the assembly:
“This child,” said the king, “is no mere child—
He speaks like one of ancient days,
With voice and thought serene and mild,
And soul alight with sacred rays.
A boon I yearn to grant him now—
Ye Brahmanas, permit me this vow.”
The Ritwiks and Sadashyas replied:
“O King, a Brahmana, though in tender years,
Deserves thy reverence and honor true.
But one who speaks with wisdom's grace
Deserves all gifts that kings can do.
Yet wait—till Takshaka is drawn near,
Let not thy boon precede his doom.
Then grant this sage his heart’s delight,
And let thy glory brightly bloom.”
Then the king, swayed by Astika’s wisdom and his own growing affection, turned to the boy and said:
“O Brahmana, ask now thy boon from me—
Whatever thou seekest, I grant it free.”
But the Hotri, wise and grave, objected, his brow slightly furrowed:
“Takshaka, the serpent prince,
Hath not yet come into the fire.
O King, restrain thy generous urge,
Till fate fulfills its full desire.”
Janamejaya, his voice resolute and stern, responded:
“Summon your strength, O priests of flame,
Let sacred chants his presence claim.
Invoke with fire and mantra pure—
That snake, my foe, must now endure.
Let not this rite be left undone—
He must arrive, my vengeance won!”
Then the Ritwiks, in their robes of smoke-hued cloth, raised their voices before the king and said:
“O Monarch, as the scriptures tell,
And as the fire's own whispers swell,
Takshaka, trembling, hides from flame—
In Indra’s court, he shields his name.”
And the Suta, famed Lohitaksha, who knew the ancient Puranic lore, rose and bowed before the king:
“O mighty one, what thou hast heard
From brahmanas, is truth and word.
Indra hath spoken to Takshaka thus:
‘Come, dwell in my celestial house.
None shall harm thee while in my sight—
Even Agni shall spare thee from his light.’”
Janamejaya’s brow darkened at this, and he turned once more to the sacred fire, his eyes blazing with purpose.
Sauti continued:
Hearing these words, the king, though crowned with ritual garlands, grew sorrowful, yet firm in wrath. He turned to the Hotri, voice low but stern:
“Do thy duty. Let no hesitation still thy hand.”
And the Hotri, obedient to the monarch, raised his hands and chanted mantras drawn from ancient fires. Clarified butter hissed into the flame, and as it blazed—
—The sky trembled.
Down from the heavens came Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt,
Riding his golden chariot veiled in clouds.
Around him danced the apsaras, singing in celestial notes,
And all the gods stood radiant in his retinue.
But Takshaka, serpent-king and son of Kadru,
Filled with dread, had slithered unseen
Into Indra’s upper garment and vanished from mortal sight.
Seeing this, the king’s fury grew like fire fed ghee, and he thundered:
“If Takshaka hides in Indra’s robe,
Then with the king of heaven let him be consumed.
Chant the mantras! Let the flames ascend—
Bring both to fire, for justice must not bend!”
Sauti continued:
Thus urged by Janamejaya, firm in his wrath,
The Hotris poured the clarified butter with mantras,
Calling Takshaka by name—
Even as he lay hidden in the folds of the King of Heaven.
The sacred flames leapt higher—
And lo! From the very sky,
Takshaka and Purandara became visible,
Afflicted with fear, faces pale with dread.
Then Indra, lord of the gods,
Seeing the fire that even heaven could not quench,
Cast off Takshaka from his breast,
And vanished in haste to his celestial home.
Takshaka, the snake prince, now exposed and trembling,
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Was drawn by the might of mantra
Closer and closer to the consuming flame,
His body reeling, his senses numbed by terror.
Then the Ritwiks said to the king:
“O monarch of the Kurus,
The sacrifice proceeds according to the ancient rites.
Takshaka is nearly thine,
And the fires have heeded thy vow.
Now, O Lord of Kings,
It is meet and just that thou fulfill thy word—
Grant the boon to this young Brahmana
Who hath pleased thee with speech and wisdom bright.”
Janamejaya, with heart stirred by awe and admiration, said:
“O thou of immeasurable light,
With childlike grace and wisdom bright,
Thy presence soothes the wrath I bear—
Speak now, what boon I may prepare.
Whatever stirs thy heart’s deep core,
Be it simple or rarest lore,
Even that which none has given before—
I pledge to grant, and nothing more.”
Sauti said:
At that very moment, when the air was trembling with the roar of Takshaka falling from the heavens,
The Ritwiks, skilled in mantras and wise in sacred rites, exclaimed aloud to the king:
“O Monarch! Behold with thine own eyes—
Takshaka, thy foe, from heaven flies!
The wielder of thunder has cast him out,
His screams of terror now ring about.
By thy mantras bound and torn,
He falls through sky, defeated, forlorn.
His breath is labored, his vision dimmed,
He rolls through clouds, his vigor trimmed.”
And just as the serpent was nearing the fire,
Astika, with calm but urgent desire,
Raised his voice in the sacred hall,
And to Janamejaya made this call:
“O mighty king of Kuru's line,
If I am granted this boon of thine—
Then let this sacrifice now cease,
And grant the troubled serpents peace.
Let no more fall by fire's decree,
Let Takshaka, too, from burning be free.”
Sauti said:
Then the son of Parikshit, King Janamejaya,
Hearing the plea of Astika that day,
Became greatly grieved in heart and mind,
And with sorrowful voice, thus spoke, yet kind:
“O noble Brahmana, child of grace,
Ask of me treasures or land or place—
Gold, or silver, or cattle rare,
Or any gift beyond compare.
But let not this mighty rite be undone,
Till Takshaka falls, my father’s foe, undone.”
But Astika, firm in his purpose high,
With gentle strength made this reply:
“I seek not gold, nor silver’s gleam,
Nor herds that graze by forest stream.
No gem, no jewel, no earthly prize—
Only this boon before thee lies:
Let this sacrifice cease today,
That my mother's kin be spared, I pray.”
Sauti continued:
Thus urged by the king with gifts and plea,
Astika stood firm in humility.
“Best of Brahmanas,” Janamejaya said,
“Ask another boon—let this rite not be shed.”
But Astika, wise, with purpose unshaken,
Refused all treasure that might be taken.
Silent he stood, with his vow held tight—
To end the fire, to halt the rite.
Then all the Sadashyas, learned and grave,
Whose wisdom was deep as ocean's wave,
Spoke with one voice, calm and true:
“O king, let the Brahmana gain his due.”
Saunaka then said:
“O Sauti, well-versed in ancient lore,
Thou hast spoken of serpents burned in the yore.
Yet my heart yearns to know in full the names
Of those who perished in the sacrificial flames.
Tell me, I pray, who among them died—
The great serpents scorched in wrathful tide.”
Sauti replied in solemn prose:
“O Brahmana, hear what memory bestows.
So vast were the numbers, tens of thousands, nay more—
They fell in the fire like waves to a shore.
Countless they were, by curse compelled,
Their names by time and terror dispelled.
Yet those I remember I shall now recite—
The chiefs of the serpents consumed in that rite.”
Sauti continued:
“Of Vasuki’s mighty line, these names I recall—
Kotisa and Manasa, great among all,
Puruna, Kala, and fierce Palahal,
Maka and Pichla, Karunapa tall.
Karka, Kalavega with speed like wind,
Parankhala, of resolute mind—
All these by name and fame well known,
Into the sacrificial fire were thrown.
From Takshaka’s brood, some too were cast,
Their cries unheard, their end come fast.
Then came the race of Airavata bold,
Serpents of splendor, with hoods of gold.
They too perished, consumed by flame,
None among them left to bear their name.
From other noble lines of serpent-kind,
Born in the house of Kaurava mind,
Many fell, though unnamed in this tale,
Their fate recorded in sorrow’s pale.
Last of all, from Dhritarashtra’s brood,
Great serpents of wrathful mood—
They too perished, in fire’s embrace,
Their glory gone, and lost their race.”
Sauti continued:
"O Brahmana, thus have I spoken the names
Of serpents renowned for their valor and flames.
Their deeds were vast, their power immense,
But countless they were—far too dense
For memory or tongue to tell,
For thousands upon thousands into fire fell.
Their sons, and their sons’ sons, vast in line,
Were seized by fate in that fire divine.
Some had three heads, others seven or ten,
Fierce as the fire that ends time for men.
Terrible forms, their hoods raised high,
They vanished with smoke into the sky.
With bodies like mountains towering tall,
Swift as thought, they obeyed no call.
Of poison bright like Agni’s breath,
They met in flame their destined death.
Some were a yojana long or more,
Of mighty strength and ancient lore.
Masters of shape and measureless power,
Burnt by the curse in that fatal hour.
Their forms, though vast, could not avail—
Before the flames, all strength did fail."
Sauti said:
"Listen now to another wondrous tale,
A marvel amidst the sacrificial veil.
When Janamejaya, in noble mood,
Prepared to grant Astika's boon as he stood,
Takshaka, hurled by Indra’s retreating hand,
Did not descend as the rites had planned.
He lingered there, in the trembling air,
A serpent gripped by utmost despair.
The king beheld with puzzled eyes,
Why falls he not, though fire does rise?
Though the mantras were uttered, the rites all just,
Though the ghee was poured with unwavering trust,
Still Takshaka, suspended, defied the flame—
Fear-bound, mid-air, he quietly came."
“O Brahmana Saunaka, thy question is wise—
Why fell he not, though flames did rise?
It was not weakness of mantra or rite,
Nor fault in the Brahmanas’ sacred might.
The mantras were pure, the oblations true,
And Agni blazed as the scriptures knew.
But Astika, moved by his mother’s word,
Beholding the serpent whom fire had stirred,
Spoke out thrice with voice clear and high:
‘Stay, stay, stay!’—his heartfelt cry.
And Takshaka, though gripped by fear and flame,
Hung mid-air when that summons came.
By Astika’s word he ceased his descent,
And in the heavens his fall was spent—
As one who, grasping hope by a thread,
Lingers between sky and earth in dread.
Unconscious, suspended, trembling in pain,
He hung like a cloud that refused the rain.”
Sauti said:
When urged again by the learned Sadashyas,
The noble king bowed his wrath and cause:
“Let it be done,” said Janamejaya then,
“As Astika desires—peace once again.
Let the fire be quenched, let the serpents go free,
Let this Brahmana’s boon fulfilled be.”
Thus did the king, of mighty name,
Bring to a close his sacrifice of flame.
Through sky and field, the heavens did ring
With cries of joy for the pardoning king.
And so it was, O Brahmanas wise,
That the snake sacrifice met its demise.
The son of Parikshit, king of fame,
Himself the priest, completed the same.
And unto all who gathered near,
He gave with hands most free and clear—
Ritwiks and Sadashyas and guests from afar,
He honored each as a radiant star,
With gold and kine, with silks and grain,
Bestowing gifts in generous rain.
And unto Suta Lohitaksha, praised,
Who spoke of the Brahmana’s boon that raised
The end to the rite by fate’s own chord—
To him was given great treasure and reward.
Thus did the son of Pandu’s line
Complete his work both just and fine.
Then Janamejaya, the Kuru king,
Concluded the rite with sacred ring.
The flames were quenched, the mantras ceased,
The serpents spared, the land at peace.
And unto Astika, wise and fair,
The king gave thanks with utmost care.
“With honor, joy, and rites complete,
O Brahmana, so calm and sweet,
Come once more, be guest to me—
A Sadashya at my Ashvamedha to be.”
And Astika bowed with reverent cheer,
“Indeed,” said he, “when that hour draws near.”
Thus pleased, he homeward took his way,
His mission done, his mind at play.
He touched his mother’s feet with grace,
And to his uncle’s warm embrace.
He told them all that came to pass—
The saving of the serpent class.
And joy then surged through Naga halls,
Relief resounded through their walls.
The serpents praised young Astika’s name,
Their hearts unbound from fear and flame.
“O noble child,” the Nagas cried,
“By thee are we from death defied!
Thy wisdom, strength, and words so keen
Have saved us from the fire unseen.
Ask a boon, O learned one,
For thy great deed cannot be outdone.
What good, what gift shall we bestow?
Command us, child, and it is so.”
Then spoke Astika, calm and wise,
With earnest tone and tranquil eyes:
“Let every Brahmana and man
Who reads with care this sacred plan—
My deed, this tale of fateful fire—
Be safe from serpents' wrath and ire.
At dawn or dusk, with heart sincere,
Let none who reads have cause to fear.”
The Nagas bowed and gave assent:
“O nephew, wise and eloquent,
Thy boon is granted, all thy will—
The law you lay we shall fulfill.
All men who name thy noble name
Shall be from fear of poison tame.
Who calls to mind Sunita's grace,
Arthiman’s strength, thy saving face,
Shall walk in peace both day and night,
Unbitten by our venom’s bite.
And he who chants in time of dread:
‘I call to mind wise Astika,’ said—
The sage who saved the serpent race
By Janamejaya's fire-lit place—
Shall not be harmed, but spared instead.
O serpents, blessed in your thread,
If such a prayer is heard by thee,
Then bite not—leave the speaker free.
But that foul snake who bites again,
Despite the sacred Astika’s name,
Shall bear a curse—his hood shall split
A hundredfold as fate deems fit—
Like sinsapa fruits in grove and glade,
A mark of scorn his fangs be made.”
Then that first among Brahmanas, Astika the wise,
Addressed by serpents with reverent eyes,
Felt joy arise in his grateful heart,
Their venom quelled, their fears depart.
Having fulfilled the vow divine—
To end the curse, to break the line
Of fire that fell from Janamejaya’s might,
He turned away, his task done right.
With sons and grandsons by his side,
When his time came, he did not hide.
With soul uplifted, firm and bright,
He rose to heaven in holy light.
And thus, O Saunaka, you have heard
The tale of Astika, word by word.
This sacred story, wise and deep,
Shall guard all those who it do keep.
For whosoever hears or reads
This tale of brave and pious deeds,
Shall walk in peace, from serpents free—
Their poison quelled by memory.
Sauti continued:
“O Brahmana, foremost of Bhrigu’s line,
As once Pramati did incline
To tell his son, in tones so pure,
The tale that made their hearts secure—
So have I told, as I had heard,
The tale of Astika, word for word.
A story blessed, whose virtue grows,
And in the hearts of hearers glows.
Thou who didst ask after the tale
Of Gundarva and deeds that never fail—
Hear now with joy this noble thread,
And let thy curiosity be fed.”
Thus ends the tale of Astika’s might,
A Brahmana’s vow fulfilled in light.