Once, during the great serpent sacrifice performed by King Janamejaya, a sage named Āstīka arrived at the ritual ground. Āstīka, the righteous and dharma-abiding son of Jaratkāru, was a young boy of great wisdom. Approaching the king, he offered words of praise to Janamejaya. The king, perceiving the boy’s learning and virtue, welcomed him with honor and respect. After showing him due courtesy, Janamejaya invited Āstīka to ask for any boon he desired. Āstīka, blessed and gentle, made a single request: “Let this great sacrifice come to an end.” Bound by his promise to grant the boy’s wish, the king was again entreated by Āstīka to stop the destruction of the serpents. Moved by the sage’s words, Janamejaya halted the offering of serpents into the fire. At that moment, the sage Vaiśampāyana began to recite the Bhārata in detail for all assembled. Yet, even after hearing the sacred narration, Janamejaya did not attain the peace he so earnestly sought. Troubled, he turned to the sage Vyāsa and asked, “How can I find tranquility?” He confessed, “My mind is ablaze with longing. What should I do? My unfortunate father met his end at the hands of the son of Parikṣit. O blessed one, for kṣatriyas, death in battle is the highest fate—whether it comes in combat or at home, as destiny ordains. But my father did not die on the battlefield; he perished helplessly in the sky. O son of Satyavatī, tell me what I must do for his peace. How might my father, who has fallen into misfortune, quickly attain heaven?” Hearing these words, Sūta said, Vyāsa, son of Satyavatī, addressed the king in the midst of the assembly. Vyāsa spoke: “Listen, O king, and I will tell you the ancient, secret, and wondrous Purāṇa called the Bhāgavata. It is filled with many auspicious stories. I once taught it to my son Śuka; now, O king, I will recite to you this supreme secret. By hearing it, one attains dharma, artha, kāma, and mokṣa—the four highest aims of life. It always brings auspiciousness and happiness, and is drawn from the essence of all the scriptures.” Janamejaya then asked, “Whose son is this Āstīka, and for what purpose did he come to obstruct the sacrifice? Why did he wish to protect the serpents, O lord? Please tell me this story in detail, and also narrate the entire Purāṇa at length, O virtuous one.” Vyāsa replied, “The sage Jaratkāru, a peaceful soul, did not enter the life of a householder. While he dwelt in the forest, he saw his ancestors hanging in a pit. They said to him, ‘O son of Kuru, take a wife for yourself; otherwise, we will not be fully satisfied. If you have a son of good conduct, we will be freed from sorrow and ascend to heaven.’ Jaratkāru answered them, ‘When I find a wife who is my equal, whom I have sought and who is truly devoted, then I will begin household life. I speak the truth, O my elders.’ Having spoken thus, Jaratkāru, the twice-born sage, departed for the holy places. At that very moment, the serpents were cursed by their mother: ‘Let them fall into the fire!’ In those days, the wives of the sage Kaśyapa—Kadrū and Vinatā—saw the horse yoked to the chariot of the Sun and spoke to each other. Kadrū asked Vinatā, ‘O dear one, what is the color of this horse? Tell me truly and quickly.’ Vinatā replied, ‘This king of horses is white. What do you think, O auspicious one? You also tell me its color, and let us make a wager.’ Kadrū said, ‘I think this horse is black, O beautiful-smiling one. Come, let us make a wager: the loser will become the other’s servant.’ Kadrū then instructed all her serpent sons, who were obedient to her, ‘Make the horse’s body appear as dark as possible.’ Some of the serpents refused, and she cursed them: ‘You will fall into the fire at Janamejaya’s sacrifice.’ The other serpents, wishing to please their mother, wrapped themselves around the horse’s tail, making it appear mottled. The two sisters, Kadrū and Vinatā, then went together to see the horse. Upon seeing its mottled appearance, Vinatā was filled with great distress. At that moment, Garuḍa, Vinatā’s mighty son and devourer of serpents, arrived. Seeing his mother sorrowful, he questioned her, ‘Mother, why are you so dejected? You seem to weep, though your son and the charioteer of the Sun are alive. What is the use of life if the mother remains unhappy, even with a son by her side? Tell me the reason, Mother; I will act so your sorrow is gone.’ Vinatā replied, ‘I must become a servant to my co-wife, my son. What more can I say, wounded as I am? Today she commands me to carry her, and because of this, I am distressed.’ Garuḍa assured her, ‘I will carry you wherever she wishes to go. Do not grieve, O blessed one; I will free you from this care.’ Thus comforted, Vinatā went to Kadrū’s side. To end his mother’s servitude, the mighty Garuḍa carried Vinatā and Kadrū to the far shore of the ocean. There, Garuḍa respectfully addressed Kadrū, ‘Mother, I bow to you. How can my mother be freed from servitude without doubt?’ Kadrū replied, ‘Bring the nectar from the realm of the gods by force and give it to my sons; then your powerless mother will be freed.’ Vyāsa continued, “Thus instructed, Garuḍa swiftly journeyed to Indra’s world. After a fierce struggle, the best of birds seized the pot of nectar. Bringing it back, Vainateya offered the nectar to his mother, and by that act, Vinatā was freed from servitude. But when the serpents went to bathe, Indra took away the nectar. Still, Vinatā’s freedom was secured by the power of her son. At that place, kusa grass had been spread out, and the serpents, in their eagerness, licked its tips. As a result, those serpents became two-tongued from merely touching the sharp edges of the kusa grass.