Maya, the great magician, went to the palace of Indra and reported all that had transpired. Hearing this, Hari—Indra himself—turned to Maya and asked, “What should I do?” Maya, pleased by Indra’s humility, gladly offered his magical powers to him. Once again, Hari asked, “What should I do now, Maya? Please, instruct me.” Maya replied, “Go to the hermitage of Agastya. There, Diti, who is pregnant, resides. Serve her for a time and remain there. O Maghavan, you must enter her womb. Take up your thunderbolt and cut the growing embryo until it submits or perishes; continue to strike with the thunderbolt, for only then will your enemy be vanquished.” Accepting Maya’s guidance, Maghavan—Indra—replied, “So be it.” He honored Maya and departed alone, humbly making his way to Diti, his mother, and served her devotedly, concealing his true intent. Diti, unaware of Indra’s hostile purpose, welcomed him. Within Diti’s womb was a being, protected by the unassailable power of the sage Kashyapa, whose blessings could not be overturned. Indra, armed with the thunderbolt, dwelled there for a long time, waiting for the right moment to act. One evening, as twilight fell and Diti, having washed her head, lay asleep, Indra saw his chance. “This is the moment,” he thought, and entered Diti’s womb, thunderbolt in hand. Inside, the being in the womb saw Indra, armed and intent on killing, and spoke out fearlessly, again and again: “Why do you not protect me, O wielder of the thunderbolt? You wish to kill your own brother. In battle, there is no greater sin than killing one’s kin. Except in battle, O mighty-armed one, wait until I have emerged—do not strike now. Such an act does not befit you, O Śakra, husband of Śacī, lord of the gods. If you truly desire battle, let me come forth and face you openly; do not strike from concealment. Even the great do not act wrongly in danger; to attack one who is ignorant and unarmed is never right. You are learned, O Indra; do you not feel shame? Noble people do not perform blameworthy deeds. What fame or merit is there in killing, especially your own brothers while they are yet unborn? Where is the manliness in that? If your devotion to battle is truly directed at me, O brother, then I stand before you, ready to fight. A slayer of children, a slayer of Brahmins, a betrayer of trust—such a person reaps bitter fruits. Why, O Śakra, are you intent on killing me? All that exists, moving or unmoving, does so by the command of the Supreme; what glory is there in slaying a child like me?” Despite these heartfelt words, Indra, blinded by anger and greed, struck the embryo with his thunderbolt, showing no compassion. The embryo did not perish from sorrow; instead, his brothers within the womb cried out, “We are still alive!” Indra struck again, and they pleaded, “Do not kill us!” Yet, Indra, his mind consumed by hatred, felt no pity for his own brothers, trusting and defenseless in their mother’s womb. Thus, the embryo was cut into many pieces, yet each piece remained alive, complete with hands, feet, and other limbs. Indra was amazed to see the embryo multiply into seven times seven forms, each living and beautiful, crying out in many voices. Hari soothed them, saying, “Do not cry.” From these fragments, the Maruts were born—strong, radiant, and full of energy. Even while still in the womb, they spoke to each other, their confusion gone, and addressed Indra: “Our mother resides in the hermitage of Agastya, the tiger among sages. Our father is your brother, and she values your friendship highly. O sage, we know your mind is affectionate toward us. What the outcaste does, Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, does not act thus.” Hearing these words, Agastya became agitated and went to Diti, who was suffering from the pain of her pregnancy. Greatly angered, Agastya cursed Indra, beloved of Śacī: “O Hari, may your enemies always see your back in battle; for the proud, this is death while living—when foes see the backs of those fleeing in combat.” Diti, too, enraged by the suffering inflicted upon her, cursed Indra, who was still within her womb: “Since you have not performed a manly act, this curse shall befall you—having suffered humiliation at the hands of women, O Hari, you shall lose your kingdom.” Meanwhile, Prajāpati Kashyapa, troubled after hearing from Agastya about Indra’s deeds, approached the scene. Indra, still within the womb, spoke to his father in fear: “I am afraid to emerge, both because of Agastya and Diti.” Kashyapa arrived and, seeing the rituals for the child and Indra’s presence in the womb, hearing Diti’s curse and Agastya’s words, was filled with sorrow. He called out, “Come out, Indra; my son, what sin have you committed? Those born in pure lineages do not set their minds on wrongdoing.” Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, emerged at last, ashamed and with his head bowed. He spoke humbly, knowing that the truth of one’s deeds is always revealed. “Whatever is said here as beneficial, I shall certainly do,” he promised. Then Kashyapa, accompanied by the guardians of the world, approached me and recounted all that had occurred. Together with the gods, he sought my counsel, asking for peace to be restored to Diti’s womb, for Indra’s curse to be lifted, and for friendship to prevail between Indra and all those who had been within the womb.