When her husband had departed, Diti, filled with delight, journeyed to the sacred place known as Kushaplava. There, she began to undertake severe austerities, determined and resolute. As she immersed herself in these penances, Indra—the lord of the gods, endowed with every noble quality—came to serve her. Indra attended to Diti with utmost care. He brought her fire for her rituals, kusa grass, wood for offerings, water, fruits, roots, and anything else she desired. He massaged her limbs and eased her weariness, always tending to her needs with devotion. As the long years passed and only ten remained out of the thousand prescribed for her vow, Diti, elated, addressed Indra. “Only ten years remain of my austerity, O most powerful one. When they are complete, you will see your brother—may auspiciousness be yours. The son I shall bear for your sake, longing for victory, will aid you in conquering the three worlds, free from affliction. At your request, O best of gods, your great-souled father granted me a boon that, after a thousand years, I would have a son.” Having spoken thus, as midday approached, Diti, overcome by sleep, lay down with her feet where her head should have been. Indra, seeing her in this impure state, laughed and rejoiced; for this was the moment he awaited. With supreme power, Indra entered her body and divided her embryo into seven parts. As Indra split the embryo with his thunderbolt, which shone with a hundred spikes, the embryo cried out sweetly. Diti awoke at the sound. Indra spoke gently to the embryo, “Do not cry, do not cry,” yet even as it wept, the mighty Indra continued to divide it. Diti, seeing what was happening, pleaded, “Do not kill, do not kill.” Out of respect for his mother’s words, Indra ceased. 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—he who would have been my slayer in battle—into seven parts. For this, I beg your forgiveness.” Now, listen to the next chapter of this sacred tale. Diti, her embryo divided into seven, was greatly distressed. Yet, she spoke gently to Indra, the unconquerable thousand-eyed one. “Because of my own fault, my embryo has been split into seven. O lord of the gods, slayer of the strong, you are not to blame. I ask only this: let these seven become the guardians of the seven groups of Maruts. Let them, carried by the wind, roam the heavens as Maruts, divine in form and my own children. Let one move in Brahmā’s world, another in Indra’s world, and a third, famed as Divyavāyu, be renowned as well. Four more, by your command, shall roam the directions. In time, may these be my sons, known by the name Maruts because of your deed.” Hearing her words, the thousand-eyed Purandara, slayer of Bala, bowed with joined palms and replied, “All will be as you have said, without doubt. Your sons, divine in form, will move as you wish.” With this agreement, mother and son, their purposes fulfilled, departed from the forest of austerities and ascended to heaven. This, O Rama, is the very place once inhabited by mighty Indra. Here, Diti had moved about, steadfast in her penance. And here, O scion of the Ikṣvāku line, the righteous son of Alambuṣā was born—he was famed as Viśāla. In this very place, Viśāla founded the city called Viśālā. Viśāla’s son was the mighty Hemacandra, and Hemacandra’s famous son was Sucandra. Sucandra’s illustrious son was known as Dhūmrāśva, whose own son was Sṛñjaya. Sṛñjaya’s son was the glorious and powerful Sahadeva, whose son was Kuśāśva, a ruler of supreme righteousness. Kuśāśva’s son was the great and powerful Somadatta, and Somadatta’s son was renowned as Kākutstha. His son, radiant and unconquerable, now rules this city—his name is Sumati. By the grace of Ikṣvāku, all the kings of Vaiśālī have been long-lived, noble, valiant, and highly righteous. Here, tonight, we shall rest comfortably, and tomorrow, O best of men, you should go to see Janaka. Sumati, splendid and renowned, heard of Viśvāmitra’s arrival and came to greet him. With his teachers and relatives, he performed the highest honors, inquired after Viśvāmitra’s well-being, and spoke with great humility: “Blessed am I, and favored am I, O sage, whose land you have entered. Having seen you, there is none more fortunate than I.” Now, listen to the next sacred chapter in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa.