In the ancient wisdom of the Atharva Veda, the sages speak of the One divine reality, known by many names. Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, Agni—all are but faces of the same source. The splendid-winged Garutman, Agni, Yama, Mātariśvan—these names are uttered by the wise, recognizing the unity behind the diversity of gods. Within this sacred tradition, a tale unfolds of healing and protection. The healers prepare remedies, crafted by hand and shaped in many forms, much like a bride adorned for her wedding. From the very essence of these remedies, they seek to drive away all afflictions. Sometimes, the spell or curse takes on a form—a head, a nose, ears—fashioned by witchcraft and gathered together, varied in appearance. Yet, from its essence, it is expelled. Whether the spell was made by a Śūdra, a king, a woman, or a priest, the prayer is for the spell to return to its maker, just as a wife returns to her husband, seeking her own kin. With the power of herbs, all witchcraft is driven away from the innocent, no matter where it was cast—in the field, among cattle, or among the people. Let the curse fall upon the one who did evil; let the false oath return to the one who swore it. The spell is sent back, so that harm may strike only its maker. The Angirases, ancient seers, are invoked to stand facing the people, as overseers and priests, to destroy all witchcrafts and spells, along with those who created them. If anyone said with hostility, "Go away," let the witchcraft turn back upon them, leaving the innocent untouched. Whoever set snares, as a craftsman sets traps for a chariot, let the spell return to them—there is its true home, not among those who do not know it. Those who made and used the spell, skilled in sorcery, are cleansed with purifying water that turns back witchcraft. If one has approached the unfortunate, the bathed, or those who have lost a child, let all sin depart, and let prosperity remain. Whatever name was taken from the afflicted—given to ancestors or in sacrifice—let the plants release them from every sin and message. From divine sin, ancestral name-taking, every message, and expiation, let the herbs release by their power, by the Brahman, by the sacred verses, and by the milk of the seers. As the wind scatters dust from the earth and clouds from the sky, so may the Brahman drive away all misfortune. The spell is bid to depart, crying not, bound like a she-ass, released by the powerful Brahman, returning to its maker. This is the path of witchcraft—by it, the spell is led away, sent back, breaking apart as a barren woman’s procession, manifold and cunning. The spell is urged to go far away, on the path of light, to make its dwelling elsewhere. It is sent beyond, crossing difficult places, not lingering among the people. Like the wind uproots trees, let the spell cast down its makers, but not touch cow, horse, or man among the innocent. Let it turn back to its makers, awakening them to childlessness. Wherever the spell was buried—in sacrificial grass, cremation ground, field, or invoked in household fire as an offering—may the wise and guiltless overcome it. The enmity brought, awakened, and buried is discovered and recognized; let it return whence it came, like a horse, so that the doer of the spell may not harm the people. With iron axes in the house, the many forms of the spell are known. The spell is commanded to rise up and depart, for it is a stranger, and is not welcome. Its neck and feet are cut off; it is told to run away. May Indra and Agni protect those who have offspring among the people. May Soma the king, the lords of beings, Mitra, and the spirits grant mercy. Bhava and Sarva are invoked for graciousness, for evil done and spells cast, so that the divine weapon may strike like lightning against wrongdoers. Whether the spell is two-footed, four-footed, gathered in many forms, or eight-footed, it is sent to the distant boundary. Smeared, anointed, marked with symbols, bearing all misfortune, the spell is told to depart, to recognize its maker as a daughter recognizes her father. It is urged not to remain, but to go as if following a wounded track, for it is prey and the hunter pursues it, though he should not cut it down. One strikes the former dweller, taking back what was given; another strikes the first and is struck by the next. The spell is called to hear these words, to return to its maker, wherever it may be. The killing of the innocent is truly terrible—let the spell not slay cow, horse, or man. Wherever it hides, it is raised up and made lighter than a leaf. If covered in darkness, wrapped in a net, let all such spells be destroyed and sent back to the maker. The spell, the snare, and the one who sets it against the people are to be destroyed. The spell is told to perish and not remain, to strike down those who make spells. Just as the sun is freed from darkness, as night abandons the signs of dawn, so is all evil and the spell cast off, as an elephant shakes off dust. Then, the sages contemplate the creation of the human form. By what was the heel brought forth? By what was flesh gathered? How were ankles, fingers, joints, hollows, insteps, and the support in the middle made? From what were the lower and upper ankles fashioned, both having bones? The shanks are placed with Nirṛti, the goddess of dissolution; but where are the joints of the knees, and who knows that? The fourfold structure is joined, ending in union; above the knees is the loose trunk. Who created the hips and thighs, forming the strong foundation? How many gods, and which among them, fashioned the chest and neck? How many breasts were assigned, who made the shoulders, and how many backs were constructed? Which god gathered his arms, saying, "Let us make them strong and capable"? Who placed the shoulders, and which god set them firmly in place? Who pierced the seven openings—the head, two ears, two nostrils, two eyes, and mouth? By whose greatness do four-footed and two-footed beings move everywhere? Indeed, the tongue was placed between the jaws, and speech was set upon the earth. Dwelling within the worlds, who, wearing forms, truly knows this mystery? Thus, the Atharva Veda weaves together the unity of the divine, the power of healing, the turning back of harm, and the wonder of creation, inviting all to contemplate the mysteries of existence and to seek protection and grace from the One who is known by many names.