O gentle listener, hear now the unfolding tale as spoken in the sacred Bhāgavata Purāṇa. When the king, known as Naradeva and famed for wielding the chariot wheel as his weapon, is disregarded, the world swiftly falls into chaos. Without the guiding hand of such a protector, thieves overrun the land and, like sheep bereft of their shepherd, the people perish in an instant. On this day, sin flows unchecked: men, deprived of their guardian, plunder wealth, kill one another, utter curses, rob, and seize cattle, women, and property. In this way, noble dharma dissolves among mankind. The practices of varṇa and āśrama, rooted in the three Vedas, fade away; those absorbed only in wealth and pleasure, behaving like dogs and monkeys, cause the mixing of castes. Yet the king, guardian of dharma, is none other than the great emperor Bṛhacchrava—a royal sage, a true devotee, who performed mighty horse sacrifices. Against this innocent king, a sin was committed 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, on account of his son’s offense, the great sage was filled with remorse. Though he himself had been wronged by the king, he did not dwell upon the injury. The virtuous in this world are often placed in situations of duality by others, yet they neither grieve nor rejoice, for their reliance is upon the qualities of the self. There are rules for purity and conduct: one should not lie down without washing the feet, nor with wet feet or a wet head; nor should one eat food offered by others, nor lie naked, nor at the times of dawn or dusk. Always pure, clothed in clean garments, and endowed with auspiciousness, one should worship cows, Brahmins, fortune, and the infallible Lord before breakfast. Women and those possessing valor should worship with garlands, fragrances, offerings, and ornaments; having worshipped her husband, a wife should attend to him and meditate upon him as residing within her womb. If this unbroken vow of puṃsavana is upheld for a year, then a son who will defeat Indra shall be born. Diti, of great resolve, agreed, saying, “So be it,” and received the seed from Kaśyapa, faithfully undertaking the vow. Indra, knowing his maternal aunt’s intention, served Diti, who dwelled in the hermitage, with attentive devotion. He regularly brought from the forest flowers, fruits, sacred grass, kusha, leaves, sprouts, clay, and water at the appropriate times. Thus, while she observed the vow, Hari, desiring to break it, served her in a crooked manner, like a deer in the form of a deer. Yet Indra found no breach in her vow, for she was intent upon it. He fell into intense anxiety, wondering how he might achieve his purpose. One evening, exhausted by her observances and having eaten, Diti, with her feet unwashed and not cleansed by water, confused by fate, fell asleep. Seizing this opportunity, Indra, master of yoga, entered Diti’s womb by his yogic power while her mind was overcome by sleep. With his thunderbolt, he split the golden-hued embryo into seven parts. As each cried, he said again, “Do not cry.” As they were being split, all of them, with joined palms, said, “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.” Diti’s embryo did not perish, by the compassion of Śrīnivāsa; though struck repeatedly by the thunderbolt, just as you survived the weapon of Drona. By worshipping the primeval person even once, one attains equality; for nearly a year, Hari was worshipped by Diti. Along with Indra, those fifty gods became the Maruts. Having dispelled their mother’s fault, they were made drinkers of Soma by Hari. Diti arose and 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 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. Then, seeing this most astonishing outcome brought about by me, I realized it was a result of the worship of the Supreme Person, which brings about such success. Those who worship the Lord, desiring nothing, are remembered as truly wise, even if they do not seek anything further; but those who seek only their own benefit are not so. Who, being wise, would choose contact with material qualities, which leads even to hell, when one can worship the Lord who bestows the self, the Lord of the universe and one’s own soul? Therefore, O Mother, you ought to forgive this great offense of mine, who am childish and base. By good fortune, your embryo has arisen again from death.” Śrī Śuka continued: Thus permitted by her, pure-hearted and satisfied, Indra, having bowed to her together with the Maruts, returned to heaven. “Thus, all that you have asked me has been told—the auspicious birth of the Maruts. What more shall I tell you?” Sūta then spoke: The king, deeply troubled, reflected on that blameworthy act, not done by himself, thinking, “Alas, I have acted basely, like one unworthy, toward the sinless, the hiddenly powerful Brahmin. Surely, because of my disrespect toward the godly, a great calamity, hard to overcome, will soon befall me. Let it come as it will, as expiation for my sin, so that I may never do such a thing again. Today, may the fire of the angered Brahmin, which has been kindled against me, consume my kingdom, power, and vast treasury, for I, the unfortunate one, may never again harbor such evil thoughts toward Brahmins, gods, or cows.” Thus reflecting, he heard how the sage’s son had pronounced death, Takṣaka by name. He considered it good, for soon Takṣaka would bring detachment to one so attached. Such is the story, O listener, as revealed in the holy scripture.