O Rāma of the Raghu lineage, as the churning of the ocean continued, from its depths arose sixty crores of radiant apsarases, their beauty dazzling to behold and their attendants beyond counting. Yet, neither the gods nor the demons accepted these celestial maidens; because they were not claimed by any, they became common to all, belonging to no one in particular. Then, O delight of the Kakutstha line, Varuṇa’s daughter, Vāruṇī, of great fortune, emerged from the ocean, seeking acceptance. The sons of Diti, the Daityas, did not accept her, but the sons of Aditi, the Ādityas—faultless and noble—welcomed her. Thus, the Daityas became known as asuras, and the sons of Aditi as suras, the gods. The gods rejoiced greatly at the acceptance of Vāruṇī. From the ocean then arose the celestial horse Uccaiḥśravā, foremost among steeds, and the brilliant Kaustubha gem, along with the supreme nectar of immortality, amṛta. For the sake of this nectar, O Rāma, a terrible conflict erupted. The sons of Aditi and the sons of Diti clashed fiercely, and all the asuras joined forces with the rākṣasas in a battle so dreadful it bewildered the three worlds. When destruction seemed to consume everything, mighty Viṣṇu, taking on an enchanting form, swiftly seized the nectar. Those who approached the imperishable Supreme Person, Viṣṇu, were struck down by his power in the midst of battle. In that great and fierce war, the sons of Aditi, the Ādityas, overcame and slew the sons of Diti, the Daityas. When her sons had been slain, Diti was overwhelmed with grief. She approached her husband, the sage Kaśyapa, son of Marīca, and spoke: “O revered one, your mighty children have slain my sons. I am bereft and filled with sorrow. I desire to gain, through long austerity, a son who will be the slayer of Indra.” She pleaded with her husband, “Permit me, O lord, to undertake austerity and grant me a son who will destroy Indra in battle.” Hearing her words, the radiant sage Kaśyapa, full of compassion, replied, “So be it; may auspiciousness be yours. Remain pure in your practice, O possessor of austerity. If you remain pure for a full thousand years, you will bear from me a son who will destroy the three worlds and slay Indra in battle.” Having thus spoken, the sage gently touched Diti with his hand, blessed her, and departed for his own austerities. Diti, exceedingly delighted, journeyed to the sacred place called Kushaplava and there began her severe penance. While Diti performed her austerities, Indra, endowed with supreme virtues, attended to her every need. He provided fire, kusa grass, wood, water, fruits, roots, and anything else she desired. With gentle care, he massaged her and relieved her fatigue, serving her at all times. When only ten years remained of the thousand, Diti, greatly rejoicing, spoke to Indra: “Ten years remain of my austerity, O mighty one. After that, you will see your brother, and may it bring you good fortune. The son I shall bear, eager for victory, will share with you the conquest of the three worlds, free from affliction. At your request, your great-souled father granted me a boon for such a son at the end of a thousand years.” As midday approached, Diti was overcome by sleep and, in her fatigue, lay with her feet where her head should be, thus breaking her vow of purity. Seeing her in this impure state, Indra rejoiced, recognizing the opportunity. He entered her body through its opening and, with the power of his thunderbolt, divided her embryo into seven parts. As the embryo was being split by the thunderbolt with a hundred spikes, it cried out melodiously, awakening Diti. Indra spoke soothingly to the embryo, saying, “Do not cry, do not cry,” yet continued to divide it. Diti, waking, cried out, “Do not kill, do not kill!” Out of respect for his mother’s words, Indra withdrew. With joined palms and holding his thunderbolt, Indra addressed Diti: “O goddess, you slept impure, with your head at your feet. Seizing that moment, I split the embryo—who would have been my slayer—into seven parts. For this, you ought to forgive me.” Diti, her embryo divided into seven, was greatly distressed, but she spoke gently to the unconquerable thousand-eyed Indra: “Because of my fault, this embryo has been split into seven parts. O lord of the gods, slayer of the strong, there is no fault of yours in this matter. I ask only that you do something pleasing for me regarding the fate of my children: let these seven become the guardians of the seven groups of Maruts. Let them, carried by the wind, O son, roam the heavens as Maruts—divine in form and my own children.