Once upon a time, the sage Kaśyapa granted boons to his wives, Vinatā and Kadrū, after they had each expressed their desires. To Vinatā, he promised, “Such sons will be born to you,” and she gratefully accepted his words. Vinatā was filled with satisfaction, knowing she would bear two sons of extraordinary might. Meanwhile, Kadrū had received the boon of a thousand sons, each equal in splendor. Kaśyapa, the great ascetic, instructed both wives, “You must carefully bear your pregnancies.” With their wishes fulfilled, Vinatā and Kadrū, Kaśyapa’s wives, withdrew into the forest to await the fruition of their boons. There, Vinatā laid two eggs, and her attendants, delighted, placed them safely for incubation. For five hundred years, the eggs were kept warm and moist in vessels. After this long period, Kadrū’s thousand sons emerged from their eggs. But from Vinatā’s two eggs, no offspring appeared. Longing for a son and feeling ashamed, Vinatā undertook austerities. Unable to wait any longer, she broke open one egg. Inside, she saw a son, but his body was only half-formed; the other part remained unmanifest. The son, angered by his premature birth, cursed his mother: “Because you, mother, driven by impatience, have done this to me, since my body is incomplete, you shall become a slave for five hundred years to Kadrū, your rival. But, mother, your other son will release you from slavery, if you do not break open his egg prematurely as you did with me. You must not make him incomplete or deformed; patiently await the proper time of his birth. Desiring a son of superior strength, you must wait beyond five hundred years.” Having spoken thus, the son departed into the sky. This son was Aruṇa, who appeared at the break of dawn. At his arrival, the radiant lord of a thousand rays—the Sun—rose, and, seeing Aruṇa, appointed him as his charioteer. Aruṇa, blazing with his own brilliance and equal in splendor to the Sun himself, ascended the chariot and became the immortal charioteer of the illuminator of all worlds. In due time, Garuda, the devourer of serpents, was born from Vinatā’s second egg. As soon as he emerged, Garuda left his mother and soared into the sky. Hungry and desiring to obtain the food destined for him by the Creator, Garuda, the lord of birds, set out to fulfill his purpose. At that very moment, Vinatā and Kadrū, the two sisters, saw Uccaiḥśravas, the supreme horse-gem, approaching. All the hosts of gods, delighted, worshipped him. Uccaiḥśravas was born during the churning of the nectar, unfailing in strength among horses, foremost among the swift, resplendent, ageless, divine, and adorned with every auspicious mark. Curious, the question arose: “How was that nectar churned by the gods? Where and for what reason did the churning, superior even to nectar, take place? Where was that mighty, radiant lord of horses born?” The story unfolds upon Meru, the immovable mountain, a supreme mass of brilliance with golden, shining peaks that cast rays like the sun. Adorned with golden ornaments and attended by gods and gandharvas, Meru was immeasurable and unassailable by those who lacked righteousness. Encircled by fearsome serpents and illuminated by celestial herbs, the great mountain towered high, as if covering the heavens. It was inaccessible even to thought, adorned with rivers and trees, and alive with the delightful cries of many birds. Upon its beautiful, gem-encrusted peak, all the mighty gods, free from enmity and eternal, gathered together. Seated there, the dwellers of heaven began their deliberation, united in ascetic discipline, assembled for the sake of ambrosia. As the gods pondered among themselves, Nārāyaṇa spoke to Brahmā: “Let the gods and hosts of asuras churn the ocean with a mountain. When the great ocean is churned, ambrosia will arise there. Gather all herbs and jewels; by churning the ocean with the mountain, you gods shall obtain the ambrosia.” The best of mountains, Mandara, was chosen—adorned with peaks like the summits of clouds, thick with interlacing creepers, filled with the cries of many birds and crowded with fanged creatures. It was frequented by kinnaras, apsarases, and even the gods. Mandara rose eleven thousand yojanas high and was rooted a thousand yojanas deep below the earth. Yet, at that time, all the hosts of gods were unable to lift Mandara. Approaching Viṣṇu as he sat, they spoke to Brahmā: “Let your honors devise the highest and most beneficial plan; let effort be made for our welfare in raising Mandara.” Viṣṇu, together with Brahmā and Bhārgava, agreed, and the lotus-eyed, immeasurable soul urged the king of serpents. Ananta, mighty in strength, rose at the command of Brahmā and the words of Nārāyaṇa to perform this task. With immense power, Ananta lifted the king of mountains by force, along with its plateau and dwellers. Then, together with the gods, he approached the ocean, and they declared, “For the sake of ambrosia, we will churn these waters.” Thus began the great churning, the quest for nectar, and the birth of wonders, all set in motion by the fulfillment of boons and the tireless efforts of gods, sages, and celestial beings.