In the sacred verses of the Atharva Veda, a tale unfolds of the powerful plant Apāmārga, whose virtues and might are invoked to dispel all that afflicts humankind. With Apāmārga, thirst and hunger are wiped away, and even the sting of defeat at dice is removed, as if swept clean by its touch. This plant is hailed as the sovereign of all herbs, holding dominion among them, moving as a remedy wherever it is needed. Through its presence, all that has settled upon a person—troubles, curses, and misfortune—is cleansed. The verses then turn to the invocation of balance and truth. The speaker declares the power to make the day as bright as the sun, the night as complete, and establishes truth as a shield of protection, calling for the plant’s juices to be effective in their purpose. Against those who practice witchcraft and enter the homes of the unsuspecting, a wish is made that they, like a calf, return to their own, unable to harm the innocent. If one, having made evil his dwelling, seeks to cause harm, the destruction of that evil is likened to the crackling of many stones as it is burned away. The plant is invoked as a weapon against witchcraft—armed with a thousand powers and arrows, with a shadow that cannot be grasped, it is asked to sever the bonds of love between those who would do harm. With Apāmārga, all forms of witchcraft are driven away, whether worked in the field, among cattle, or among people. Even those who attempted harm but failed are recognized—they have unwittingly done good, yet are left to face the scorching sun for their intent. Again and again, Apāmārga is called upon to wipe away the residue of curses and to drive away sorceresses and all hostile forces. With its power, all that is harmful is removed, leaving the way clear for well-being. The narrative then reveals the deeper nature of Apāmārga. It is the maker of kin and in-laws, wielded by spell and incantation, able to sever offspring as a river cuts through the rainy season. Empowered by the Brahmin, by Kaṇva, by Nārṣada, the plant goes forth shining, bringing fearlessness wherever it is present. It leads the plants, radiant as a beacon, protecting from harm and destroying demons. At the beginning of time, when the gods set apart the Asuras, it was with Apāmārga, and thus the plant took its place among the sacred herbs. Its lineage is of splitting—its father is named Splitting—and it is called upon to split back any who attack. Born of the unsteady earth, it spreads widely, and its fumigation is sent forth to reach those who turn back in harm. The plant is asked to drive away all harm from the devotee’s path, to avert destruction, and to protect with a hundredfold and a thousandfold strength, for Indra himself has placed fierce and mighty power within it. The vision of Apāmārga is all-seeing. She, the goddess, sees forward and backward, near and far; she beholds all—the heavens, the midspace, and the earth. There are three heavens and three earths, six directions in all, and with the divine plant, the devotee claims sight of all beings. She is the pupil of the divine bird and, weary as a bride, she has mounted the earth. The thousand-eyed god has placed her in the devotee’s right hand, giving the power to see all—servant and noble alike. The plea is made for the plant to reveal her forms, to not hide, and to look upon all things with her thousand eyes. She is asked to show the sorceresses, the sorcerers, and all the demons, for this is the purpose for which she is taken. She is the eye of Kaśyapa and of four-eyed Śunī, and is entreated not to let demons hide, just as the sun moves openly in the sky. Protection is sought from the upward-seizing and the encircling sorcerer, and with this plant, all—servant and noble—are seen. Even those who fly through the midspace, who glide beyond the sky, or who think themselves masters of the earth are to be revealed if they are demons. As the story shifts, the cows are praised as bringers of good fortune. They arrive, their presence a blessing, settling in the enclosure and bellowing for the people. May they be prolific and of many forms, yielding abundant milk for Indra as in the ancient dawns. Indra favors those who sacrifice and praise him, granting them ever-increasing wealth and undivided riches. Such cows are safe from loss, theft, or the harm of enemies; with them, the gods are worshipped, and the lord of cattle prospers. No worm or insect troubles these cows, nor do they come near any poison. They roam widely and fearlessly, protected for the mortal sacrificer. Cows are lauded as fortune itself, as Indra’s own; they are the first portion of Soma, and to desire cows is to desire Indra. The cows bring prosperity even to the lean and the unlovely, making homes auspicious and spreading blessings. Their fame is great in assemblies, and they are pure, shining, and drink clear water. May neither thief nor slanderer harm them, and may Rudra’s missile be turned away. Finally, the verses invoke Indra’s blessing upon the kshatriya, to increase his power and make him the sole bull among the people, vanquishing all enemies and prevailing in contests. May he have a share in the village, among horses and cows, a settled share denied to his foe. Indra is asked to grant him the highest station among rulers, to fill him with splendor, and to deprive his enemies of it. Heaven and Earth are called to yield abundant riches to him, as milch-cows yield warm milk, making him dear to Indra, cows, plants, and cattle. Indra, the bringer of victory, is yoked to the north, ensuring that the devotee wins and is never defeated. The king is set higher, his adversaries below; as the sole bull, Indra’s friend, he is to live long, with his enemies subdued and the offerings brought in. Thus, in these sacred verses, the powers of plants, gods, and cattle intertwine, weaving a tapestry of protection, prosperity, and victory for those who walk in the light of the divine.