Kuṣṭha, the divine and potent remedy, arose and struck down the afflictions that trouble the body: it banished the disease of the head, cleared the fluids clouding the eyes, and swept away all that ailed the flesh. With its sacred strength, Kuṣṭha removed every trace of illness, restoring vigor and wholeness. This healing power has a lineage as wondrous as its gifts. Night is its mother, the vast sky its father, and Aryaman its revered grandfather. Known as Silācī, it is called the sister of the gods, kin to the divine. Whoever partakes of this remedy finds life and protection; it is the nourisher and steadfast supporter of all people. Silācī flourishes from tree to tree, thriving like a radiant maiden. Victorious and steadfast, she is celebrated as the touch-healer, bringing relief to those in need. Whatever harm has been wrought—whether by staff, by arrow, or by force—she is the remedy, releasing the afflicted from guilt and pain. She draws her essence from the auspicious fig tree, the sacred fig, the acacia, the blessed banyan, and the leaves; from these, the revered Arundhati comes forth. Golden-hued and fortunate, sun-colored and beautiful, this Remedy advances with truth and bears her name with honor. With shaggy hair and a sharp glance, powerful and golden, she is counted as the sister of the waters or of lac, with the wind as her very soul. Her names are many: Silācī, Kāninī; her father is Ajababhru. The dark horse of Yama, whose bridle she has yoked, is her companion. When the bridle of that horse falls, it clings to the trees, and so, becoming a flowing, winged being, Arundhati arrives, bringing her blessings. In the beginning, before all things, Brahman was born—the first, radiant and resplendent. Vena spread forth with his brilliance, establishing deep foundations as his models. From both the existent and the non-existent, he brought forth all offspring. Those ancient ones, who once seemed unattainable and performed the first deeds, let them not bring harm to our heroes now, for this has been established since before time. With a thousand streams, their voices sounded together in the heavens, honeyed tongues speaking in the sky. Their watchful spies never close their eyes, ever alert, forming bonds along the path. Let us circle around and drive forth for strength, breaking through all obstacles. You, the thirteenth month, the very house of Indra, bear a name for victory. With this power, may you drive away all hostile ones—svāhā! O Soma and Rudras, sharp-weaponed and gracious, come here and grant us happiness. Again and again, may you remove our foes—svāhā! O Soma and Rudras, come, sharp and merciful, and bless us. Release us from all evil and blame; accept our sacrifice and place immortality among us. The missiles of the eye, mind, speech, and austerity—may the harmful intentions of those who wish us ill be turned back. Whoever seeks our harm with eye, mind, thought, or intention—O Agni, turn back their designs—svāhā! You are the house of Indra; to you I surrender and enter, all-encompassing, all-man, all-soul, all-bodied—together with all that is mine. You are Indra’s protection; to you I surrender and enter, joining all that I am and all that is mine. You are Indra’s armor and safeguard; to you I dedicate myself, merging all that I possess with your strength. Bring us forward, never leave us behind in hostility; let not the right path be taken from us. Homage to the bringer of prosperity, to the one who ensures we do not fail, and to the absence of enmity. To enmity itself, to the sacrificer, to the one who binds, I offer reverence and bow—may you not cause us destruction or distress. May the destruction caused by gods, day or night, be averted from us. May we pass beyond all enmity; homage to peace and the absence of hatred. Seeking Sarasvatī, Anumati, and Bhaga, we call upon them, hoping to speak words that are sweet and pleasing among the invocations to the gods. Whomever I seek today with speech and mind, yoked to Sarasvatī, may faith find him, granted by tawny Soma. May neither destruction nor speech be taken from us; O Indra and Agni, bring us wealth, and may all who wish to give turn away enmity from us. Go far away, O unsuccessful one; we lead your weapon from you. I know you—blinking and striking, O enmity. Even naked, you join people in dreams, weaving the mind and intention of failure into their thoughts. To Nirṛti, great and proud, who shatters all hopes, I offer homage. To the golden-hued, golden-robed, vast and hostile one, I bow in reverence. With wood from the Vaikaṅkata tree, we carry offerings to the gods. O Agni, delight in them here; may all be drawn to my invocation. O Indra, come to my call; I perform this rite—hear it. Let the Indra-like helpers bow to my intention, and with them, O Jātavedas, may we gain strength and preserve our bodies. If any godless one here seeks to join the gods, may Agni not carry his offering, nor the gods accept his invocation—let this offering be mine alone. Let the Indra-like helpers run ahead, striking at my command. Break the ram like a wolf, but let him live; do not let his life slip away, even if he is bound. Whomever has been set up as priest for the removal of evil, O Indra, may that one be placed beneath you; I cast him down to death. If, in ancient times, the gods made prayers and armor for themselves, forging protection for body and life—whatever they used, make all that flavorless for him. Thus, through the power of divine remedies, the blessings of the gods, and the strength of faith, the seekers are protected, the hostile turned away, and peace and prosperity are invited to dwell among us.