At Brahma’s command, Shesha, the noblest and eldest of the serpents, was addressed with reverence: “Descend beneath the earth, O best of serpents. The earth herself will grant you a place. By supporting her, Shesha, you will do me a great favor.” Obedient to this divine instruction, Shesha made an opening and entered the depths below. There, as lord of the earth and foremost among the serpents, he took his place. Encircling the earth completely with his mighty coils, he bore her upon his head, upholding the goddess steadfastly. Brahma praised him, saying, “You are Shesha, the best of serpents, a god of righteousness. For you alone uphold this earth, encircling her entirely with your endless coils, with strength equal to or even surpassing my own.” Thus, by the command of the glorious Brahma, the mighty Ananta—another name for Shesha—dwells beneath the earth, sustaining the world all by himself. To honor this great task, the blessed Grandsire granted Ananta a companion: the divine Suparna, Garuda, best among immortals. With Ananta gone to his sacred duty, Vasuki, renowned for his strength, was chosen by the serpents as their king, just as the gods had once anointed Indra. But soon after, Vasuki heard the dreadful curse pronounced by his mother. Anxious, Vasuki pondered deeply how this curse might be averted. He gathered all his brothers—Airavata and the rest—serpents devoted to righteousness, to consult together. “You all know of the curse that has been pronounced,” Vasuki said. “Let us strive, with wisdom and unity, to find a way to escape its effect.” He continued, “There is a counteraction for every curse, but for those uttered by one’s mother, release seems impossible. Even the eternal and immeasurable have been cursed before, and that knowledge makes me tremble. Surely, total destruction looms over us; our mother, in her anger, has cast a terrible curse, and even the gods did not restrain her. Let us quickly deliberate for the welfare of the serpents, so that all may be well and time does not slip away. We are intelligent and discerning—let us seek a means for deliverance.” Vasuki then reminded them of a tale: “Just as the gods once lost the hidden fire concealed in a cave, so too may the sacrifice of Janamejaya not occur, or perhaps he may be defeated, and our destruction averted.” All the descendants of Kadru agreed to confer and made a pact, skilled in counsel and wisdom. Various suggestions arose among them. Some said, “Let us become eminent Brahmins and beg Janamejaya not to hold the sacrifice.” Others proposed, “We should become his counselors, well-accepted and trusted. When he seeks our advice, we shall guide him to abandon the sacrifice. We will point out severe faults, both in this world and beyond, and ensure the ritual does not happen.” Another group suggested, “If there is a teacher skilled in serpent-sacrifice who will conduct the ritual for the king, let one of us go and bite him. Even if that serpent dies, the sacrifice will be halted. And for any other priests knowledgeable in these rites, we shall bite them all.” But some virtuous and compassionate serpents objected: “This is ignorance. Killing Brahmins is not proper. True peace in adversity is rooted in dharma; acting against dharma would destroy the world.” Others offered different plans. “We will extinguish the sacrificial fire by becoming clouds with lightning and pouring rain upon it,” said some. Others suggested, “Let us go at night and steal the vessels and ladles used in the ritual, while people are careless; thus, the sacrifice will be obstructed.” Some proposed, “During the sacrifice, let us bite the people by the hundreds and thousands; then we will have no fear.” Others said, “Let us defile the prepared food with our own urine and excrement, destroying all the offerings.” A few suggested, “Let us become the officiating priests ourselves. We will create obstacles and demand the sacrificial gifts.” Others said, “The king is under our control and will do as we wish. Let us bring him from the water where he plays, take him to the house, and bind him so that the sacrifice cannot occur.” Some, thinking themselves wise, proposed, “Let us seize him quickly and bite him; with his death, the root of our troubles will be cut off.” After much debate and discussion, the assembled serpents turned to Vasuki and awaited his decision. Vasuki, reflecting deeply, addressed them: “This is not the decision I approve for you. The plans you have offered do not please me. What should be done for your welfare? I think it is best to seek the favor of the great-souled Kasyapa. Out of kinship and concern for you all, my mind is troubled and finds no peace in your proposals. I must arrange whatever will bring you true welfare, for I am greatly troubled by the virtues and faults that depend on me.” Thus, Vasuki, torn by his duty and love for his kin, pondered the fate of the serpents, seeking a path that would be righteous and bring deliverance from the curse.