On this page
For a long time the three worlds had lain exhausted under a single war. On one side stood Indra, king of the gods. On the other stood Vritrasura, the son of Tvashta, whose blazing power had spread across the whole of creation and who seemed ready to burn the three worlds to ash and swallow the gods entire. The hatred between the two was a torment to sages, gandharvas, kinnaras, and even to mortal men.
At last a group of ascetic rishis stepped between them. They went to Vritrasura’s fine hermitage and spoke to him in words that were sweet and full of good sense. Noble Vritra, this feud of yours with Indra is devouring the happiness of you both. If a lasting friendship could be made between you, then all of us, ascetics and gandharvas alike, might live in peace in our hermitages once more. Let us stand as go-betweens and bind you with an oath, and Indra too will swear before your face and become your friend.
Vritrasura answered, sages, I honor you all. Yet a man should never trust an enemy, a fool, a cheat, or one without shame. This Indra is shameless, a wrongdoer, a killer of brahmins. Still, if there must be a treaty, it will rest on one condition. Let me be safe from death by nothing dry and nothing wet, by no stone and no wood, by no thunderbolt, and neither by day nor by night. On that condition I will make peace with Indra, and on no other.
The rishis accepted the condition with respect, then summoned Indra and repeated it to him. Before the sages Indra called upon Agni, the fire, as his witness and swore the oath. Vritrasura was won over by their words and began to live alongside them as a friend. The two of them wandered together in delight, now through the garden of Nandana, now along the shore of the sea. Yet all the while, in the secret chambers of his mind, Indra kept searching for a way to kill him.
The Ambush at Dusk
Tvashta, Vritra’s father, knew that his son’s trust in an old enemy was unwise. He tried to warn him. My son, never trust one with whom you have once been at war. This is the same Indra who once entered a mother’s womb and cut the child within into seven pieces, then cut each of those into seven again, and from them came the forty-nine Maruts. Do not put your faith in so cunning a fault-finder. But when death is already seated on a man’s head, what warning can reach him? Vritra did not heed a single word of his father.
One day Indra found the great demon alone on the shore of the sea. It was the fearsome hour of dusk, when neither day remains nor night has come. Indra thought to himself, this is the very hour that the condition cannot touch, the place is deserted and my enemy stands alone; today he must be killed. With that thought he silently called to mind the imperishable Shrihari, and Purushottama Vishnu came unseen and entered Indra’s thunderbolt.
At that moment Indra saw a mass of foam rising like a mountain from the sea. It was neither dry nor wet, and it was no weapon of any kind. Indra lifted that ocean foam as though in play. Then with the deepest devotion he called to mind Jagadamba, the supreme Shakti, and the instant he remembered her the Goddess placed a portion of herself within the foam. Sheathing the thunderbolt that carried Shrihari inside that foam, Indra struck Vritrasura with it. The sudden blow felled the demon like a toppling mountain, and there he was slain. For this the Goddess became renowned throughout the world by the name Vritranihantri, the slayer of Vritra. Because Vritra fell in plain sight at Indra’s hand, it is said that Indra killed him.
The Shadow of Brahmahatya
The moment Vritra fell, a shadow of sin seemed to spread in every direction. Fearing the killing, Lord Vishnu withdrew to Vaikuntha, and Indra too fled in terror toward his own city. The sages who had stepped between the two and arranged their friendship began to repent, saying that by siding with a betrayer they had made their very name as sages worthless. Elsewhere, when the news of his son’s death reached Tvashta, he wept until his whole body shook. After performing the proper last rites, the grieving father laid a curse on Indra: as he had killed my son through deceit and a false oath, so let him too suffer a great sorrow sent by fate.
The curse came true. With Vritra’s death all of Indra’s splendor drained away. The gods began to speak against him, and little by little they began to say that he was the killer of a brahmin. Hemmed in by the dread of that sin, Indra found no comfort in his home, nor in the garden of Nandana, nor even in the nectar of the gods. He said as much to a frightened Shachi, then left his house and went to Lake Manasa. There, worn down by fear and grief, he hid inside the stalk of a lotus like a coiled serpent, unseen by every living being.
With Indra vanished in this way, heaven was left without a master. Many disasters broke out, drought settled over the land, the sources of the rivers ran dry, and the earth lost all its splendor. Seeing this chaos, the gods and the sages took counsel and set a royal sage named Nahusha upon Indra’s throne.
The Pride of Nahusha
No sooner had he gained the kingdom than the once-righteous Nahusha fell under the sway of rajas and was pierced by the arrows of desire. Surrounded by apsaras, he sank into indulgence, and when he heard of the virtue and grace of Indrani, Shachi, he set his heart on possessing her. He told the rishis, the gods have made me Indra, so Shachi too is mine; send her to my palace at once.
Hearing this, the chaste Shachi began to tremble and took refuge with Brihaspati, the guru of the gods. Brahman, protect me from Nahusha; I place myself in your care. Brihaspati gave her his assurance. Devi, do not fear Nahusha, who is deluded by sin; I will not abandon the eternal dharma and hand you to him. Whoever gives up a suffering soul who has come for shelter, surrendering that soul into the hands of another, lies in hell until the dissolution of the world.
Nahusha grew angry, but the gods reasoned with him, telling him that while her husband still lived a faithful wife could take no other man as her lord. Then, on Brihaspati’s advice, Shachi went to Nahusha herself and cleverly asked him for time. King of kings, grant me a reprieve until I have learned for certain whether my husband Indra is alive or not; the moment I am sure, I will present myself in your service. Drunk on his own pride, Nahusha was pleased and agreed.
Meanwhile the gods went to Vaikuntha and took refuge with Lord Vishnu. Vishnu told them, to wash away Indra’s sin, have an Ashvamedha, the horse sacrifice, performed; by its merit Indra will be purified and will regain his station. And when that sacrifice is offered to please Jagadamba, the mere remembrance of whom cuts through the whole net of sins, what more need be said of its power? Nahusha too, deluded by the maya of the world’s Mother, will soon be destroyed by his own sin. Under Brihaspati’s guidance the gods reassured Indra and carried out the great Ashvamedha sacrifice, and Vishnu divided Indra’s brahmahatya and cast the portions upon the trees, the rivers, the mountains, the earth, and women; in this way Indra was freed of sin, yet he stayed hidden in the water still, waiting for a better time.
At Brihaspati’s word Shachi received the mantra of the goddess Shri Bhuvaneshvari in the proper way and, renouncing all pleasures, put on the garb of a woman ascetic and began to worship the Goddess. After some time the Goddess, pleased with her, appeared before her in person, riding her swan, three-eyed and giver of boons, and sent Shachi along with her own messenger to Lake Manasa, where she had the darshan of her frightened and sorrowing husband, Indra. The Goddess gave her word that she would soon topple the deluded Nahusha from the seat of Indra.
Serpent, Serpent
Even with her husband found, Shachi’s fear did not leave her. Indra told her of a plan. When that wicked king tries to take you by force, say to him, Lord of the world, come to me riding on a palanquin borne by the rishis themselves, and only then will I be yours. Blind with desire, that king will yoke the sages to his palanquin, and the ascetics will surely burn him to ash with a curse. No danger ever comes to one who keeps the feet of Jagadamba in mind.
Shachi did exactly that. Nahusha swore on the merit of his sacrifices and his gifts of charity that he would grant whatever she asked. Shachi said, lord of the gods, I wish your vehicle to be so extraordinary that neither Vishnu nor Rudra nor the asuras nor the rakshasas has anything like it. Let all the sages, unshaken in their vows, carry your palanquin; I hold you greater than every other god, and so I wish your glory to grow. Deluded by the maya woven by the great Goddess, the witless Nahusha laughed and agreed.
He summoned all the sages and said to them in his arrogance, brahmins, I am now the almighty Indra; set your pride aside and do this work of mine. The foremost rishis, Agastya among them, heard his insolent words and, bowing to what fate had ordained, graciously accepted. Nahusha climbed at once onto a beautiful palanquin, set the divine sages to bearing it, and in his impatience began to call out, sarpa, sarpa, which meant move faster, move faster.
Blind with desire, the fool touched with his foot the head of Agastya, greatest of ascetics, the same Agastya who had digested the demon Vatapi and drunk the ocean dry, and in his haste he even struck the sage with his whip. Then, holding that blow in his mind, the enraged sage pronounced a curse. Wretch! You who love the word sarpa so dearly, become the very thing itself, a huge and fearsome serpent in the forest, where you will wander for thousands of years, suffering great torment.
The instant the curse fell, the royal sage Nahusha, even as he praised that greatest of sages, dropped suddenly from heaven and took the form of a serpent. Brihaspati hurried to Lake Manasa and told Indra the whole account. When Indra heard of Nahusha’s fall, he was overjoyed. Then all the gods and sages went to the lake where Indra lay hidden and brought him back to heaven with honor. They seated him on the throne and performed his sacred consecration, and Indra, having regained his station, wandered once more through the garden of Nandana with his loving Shachi.
Having suffered a great sorrow born of his own deceit, in the end it was by the grace of the Goddess alone that Indra found his place again.
Source: Shrimad Devi Bhagavata Mahapurana (Gita Press, Gorakhpur)