Alas, what injustice is wrought by those in power, who, like greedy gluttons, consume the sacred offerings meant for the Divine! The offense of servants against their master is as grievous as that of gatekeepers—or even dogs—turning against their lord. Though a kṣatriya by birth, the king has been appointed by the brāhmaṇas as the guardian of the household; how, then, should such a doorkeeper presume the right to partake of the household’s own provisions? Now, with Lord Kṛṣṇa, the supreme guide for those who stray, having departed from this world, it falls to me to punish those who have shattered the bridge of righteousness. Behold my power! With these words, the young sage’s eyes blazed red with anger. Surrounded by his companions, he purified himself in the waters of the Kauśikī River. Then, with words as potent as a thunderbolt, he unleashed a curse: “Since the boundary has been transgressed, let Takṣaka, urged by my will, bite this destroyer of the dynasty on the seventh day.” Having pronounced the curse, the boy returned to his hermitage. There, seeing his father deep in meditation with a lifeless serpent draped around his neck, grief overwhelmed him and he cried out loudly. The brāhmaṇa, of the venerable Āṅgirasa lineage, heard his son’s lament and slowly opened his eyes. Noticing the dead serpent on his shoulder, he cast it aside and gently asked, “My child, why are you weeping? Who has wronged you?” The boy explained all that had transpired. Hearing that the king had been cursed without just cause, the brāhmaṇa did not rejoice in his son’s act. “Alas, what a great calamity you have caused today! Though your offense is small, the punishment you have pronounced is severe. You should not judge the king, O immature-minded one. By his invincible power, the people enjoy prosperity and safety on all sides. When the king—called Naradeva, wielder of the chariot wheel—is disregarded, the world is overrun by thieves. Without his protection, the people perish in an instant, like sheep without a shepherd.” He continued, “Today, sin descends upon us without pause, as people plunder the wealth of those who have lost their protector. They kill, curse, rob, and seize cattle, women, and property. Noble dharma dissolves among men, along with the practices of varṇa and āśrama, which are rooted in the three Vedas. Thereafter, those absorbed only in wealth and pleasure, like dogs and monkeys, cause the mixing of castes.” “The king you have cursed is the guardian of dharma, the great emperor Bṛhacchrava, a royal sage and true devotee who performed horse sacrifices. A grave sin has been committed against this innocent king by a child of immature understanding. May the Lord, the soul of all, forgive this offense. Even when insulted, deceived, cursed, abused, or killed, the devotees of the Lord do not retaliate, even if they possess the power to do so.” Thus, because of his son’s rash act, the great sage was filled with remorse. Though he himself had been wronged by the king, he did not dwell upon the offense. For generally, the virtuous in this world are placed in situations of duality by others, yet they neither grieve nor rejoice, relying instead upon the qualities of the self. Turning to daily practices, the sage instructed, “One should not lie down without washing the feet, nor with wet feet or wet head. Do not eat food offered by others, nor lie naked, nor at dawn or dusk. Always pure, clothed in clean garments, and endowed with auspiciousness, one should worship cows, brāhmaṇas, fortune, and the infallible Lord before breakfast. Women and those of valor should worship with garlands, fragrances, offerings, and ornaments; a wife, having worshipped her husband, should attend to him and meditate upon him as residing within her womb.” “If you uphold this unbroken vow of puṃsavana for a year,” he continued, “then a son who will defeat Indra shall be born to you.” Diti, resolute in her desire, agreed, saying, “So be it.” She received the seed from Kaśyapa and faithfully undertook the vow. Indra, aware of his maternal aunt Diti’s intention, served her with great care while she dwelled in the hermitage. He regularly brought her flowers, fruits, sacred grass, kusha, leaves, sprouts, clay, and water at the proper times. Thus, as Diti observed her vow, Hari, desiring to thwart it, served her in a subtle and crooked manner, like a deer disguised as a deer. Yet, Indra found no fault in her observance, for she was steadfast in her vow. This caused Indra great anxiety as he wondered how he might achieve his purpose. One evening, weary from her vow and having eaten her meal, Diti, with unwashed feet and uncleansed by water, fell asleep—her mind clouded by fate. Seizing this opportunity, Indra, master of yoga, entered her womb by his yogic power while she lay in deep slumber. With his thunderbolt, he split the golden-hued embryo into seven parts. As each part cried, he said to them, “Do not cry.” But as he divided them further, all of them, with joined palms, pleaded, “Why, Indra, do you wish to kill us, your brothers, the Maruts?” Kauśika replied, “Do not fear, brothers; you are dear to me. You are my attendants, the hosts of Maruts, devoted to me alone.” By the compassion of Śrīnivāsa, Diti’s embryo did not die, though struck repeatedly by the thunderbolt—just as you, O King, survived the weapon of Drona. For by worshipping the primeval person even once, one attains equality; and for nearly a year, Hari had been worshipped by Diti. Thus, along with Indra, those fifty gods became the Maruts. Having dispelled their mother’s fault, they were made drinkers of Soma by Hari. When Diti awoke, she saw her sons, radiant like fire, with the goddess, blameless, rejoicing together with Indra. She said to Indra, “My child, I undertook this most difficult vow, which brings fear to the Adityas, desiring to obtain a son. One son was resolved upon, but now seven have become sevenfold—how is this? If you know, my son, speak the truth and do not deceive me.” Indra replied, “Mother, understanding your intent, I came near. Seizing an opportunity, I divided the embryo, my mind set on my purpose, not on righteousness. Your embryo was cut by me into seven parts, and from them seven boys arose. Even as each was further divided into seven, none perished.