Ramayana

In the ancient days, a fierce and terrible war raged between the sons of Aditi and the sons of Diti. In this great conflict between the Ādityas and the Daityas, the sons of Aditi, O heroes, prevailed and slew the sons of Diti. Stricken with unbearable grief at the loss of her children, Diti approached her husband Kaśyapa, the illustrious sage, son of Mārīca. With sorrow in her heart, she addressed him, “O revered one, your mighty children have slain my sons. I am bereft and full of longing. Grant me, through long and devoted austerity, a son who will be powerful enough to become the slayer of Indra.” She continued, “I am resolved to undertake severe penance. Please permit me to conceive such a son—one who will be the destroyer of Indra, O lord.” Hearing these words, the radiant Kaśyapa, full of compassion for his grieving wife, spoke gently to her. “So be it, O possessor of austerity. May auspiciousness be yours. Remain pure, and you shall bear a son who will slay Indra in battle. If you remain pure and steadfast in your vows for a full thousand years, you will bear from me a son who can destroy the three worlds.” Having thus spoken, the sage Kaśyapa, glowing with spiritual brilliance, blessed Diti by touching her gently and then departed to continue his own austerities. Filled with hope and delight, Diti journeyed to the sacred place called Kushaplava. There, she began her arduous penance, determined to fulfill the conditions set by her husband. As Diti engaged in her austerities, Indra—the king of the gods, endowed with every virtue—approached her and served her with great care. He brought her fire for rituals, kusa grass, wood, water, fruits, roots, and anything else she might desire. Indra also tended to her comfort, massaging her and relieving her fatigue, ever attentive and respectful. Time passed, and when only ten years remained of the thousand, Diti, overjoyed that her goal was near, spoke to Indra, “O best among the powerful, only ten years remain of my penance. After that, may you behold your brother. May all be auspicious for you.” She continued, “The son I shall bear for your sake, eager for victory, will share with you, free from affliction, the conquest of the three worlds. At your request, O best of gods, your great-souled father granted me this boon, that at the end of a thousand years I may have a son.” As midday approached, Diti, weary from her penances, was overcome by sleep. In her fatigue, she lay down carelessly, placing her feet where her head should have been, and thus became impure. Indra, observing her in this state, laughed softly and rejoiced, for he saw an opportunity. With supreme power, Indra entered her body and divided her embryo into seven parts. As the embryo was being split by Indra’s thunderbolt, which had a hundred spikes, it cried out melodiously. At this sound, Diti awoke. Indra spoke to the embryo, “Do not cry, do not cry,” but even as it wept, the mighty Indra continued to divide it. Diti, witnessing this, pleaded, “Do not kill, do not kill!” Out of respect for his mother’s words, Indra withdrew. With folded hands and holding his thunderbolt, Indra addressed Diti, “O goddess, you slept in impurity, with your head at your feet. Seizing that moment, I split the embryo—who would have been my slayer—into seven parts. For this, I ask your forgiveness.” Now, Diti, her embryo divided into seven, was deeply distressed. Yet she spoke with gentle words to Indra, the thousand-eyed, unconquerable king of the gods. “Because of my own fault, this embryo has been split into seven. O lord of the gods, slayer of the mighty, you are not to blame in this matter.” She continued, “I ask one thing of you, for the sake of my children’s fate: let these seven become the guardians of the seven groups of Maruts. Let them, carried by the wind, roam the heavens. Let them be known as Maruts, divine in form, my own children.” She further requested, “Let one reside in Brahmā’s world, another in Indra’s world, and the third, renowned as Divyavāyu, also become famous. The remaining four, by your command, will roam the directions. May good fortune be yours; in time, these will be my sons. By your deed, they will be known by the name Maruts.” Hearing her words, Indra, the thousand-eyed Purandara and slayer of Bala, joined his palms and replied, “All will be as you have said, without doubt. Your sons, divine in form, will roam as you wish.” Thus, mother and son, having come to this agreement in the forest of austerities, fulfilled their purpose and ascended to heaven. O Rāma, this is the very place, O descendant of Kakutstha, where once mighty Mahendra dwelt. Here, Diti, accomplished in her penance, once moved about. And in this same land, O tiger among men, the supremely righteous son of Ikṣvāku was born. From Alambuṣā was born Viśāla, renowned for his virtues, and by him, the city of Viśālā was founded in this place. Viśāla’s son was the mighty Hemacandra. After Hemacandra, his famous son Sucandra ruled. O Rāma, Sucandra’s illustrious son was known as Dhūmrāśva, and Dhūmrāśva’s son was Sṛñjaya, who continued this noble line.