In ancient times, when the people gathered for contest and battle, their hearts turned to Indra, the bountiful and victorious one. They called upon him to drive their chariot, the very vehicle of their success, and to grant them his mighty protection against their foes, just as a master harnesses his swift horses. With Indra as their ally, they sought to conquer in every struggle, hoping their share and fortune would rise with each contest. They prayed that Indra would make their path easy and, with his boundless might, break the strength of their enemies. Far and wide, people of many lands invoked Indra, the holder of riches, each with their own desires for wealth and victory. They begged him to stand by their chariot, to steady their minds for triumph, for Indra’s resolve was known to be unshakable. Victorious in battle, Indra’s arms brought forth the cows, his resolve was limitless, and his aid was as abundant as a hundred allies. Like a lion in his deeds, he broke through obstacles, and all who wished for success called upon his matchless strength. Indra was famed for winning hundreds and thousands of glories among people. Inspired by Dhiṣaṇā, he was set beyond all measure, and as the destroyer of cities, he struck down the enemies of his devotees. His strength was established throughout the threefold universe; he set in place the three earths and three lights, embracing the whole world. From his very birth, Indra was unconquered. Among all the gods, Indra was invoked first, for he had always been victorious in battle. The people prayed that he would lead their chariot, bursting with energy, to overcome their foes in every contest. Indra’s conquests could not be restrained by any wealth; in youth and in mighty deeds, he was ever generous. The people sought his help, calling upon him to urge them on in their invocations. They prayed that Indra would be their advocate in all matters, ensuring they would gain strength without ever being overcome. They also called upon Mitra, Varuṇa, Aditi, the River, Earth, and Heaven, asking that none of these great powers bring them harm. The people remembered the supreme power of Indra, upheld by the wise from ages past. His signs were evident, as one thing was held back while another shone forth, visible as if on a level plain. Indra upheld and spread out the earth itself; with his thunderbolt, he struck down and released the waters, slew the serpent, split the mountain, and destroyed the withholding cloud, bringing bounty to the world. Ever youthful and trusting in his strength, Indra advanced, shattering the forts of the Dasyus. With his thunderbolt, he increased the might and glory of the Aryans. Through the ages, men sang of his famed and generous name, for he approached to slay their foes and established his renown as the wielder of the thunderbolt. The people beheld Indra’s abundant wealth and placed their faith in his might. He discovered cows and horses, plants, waters, and forests—he was the finder of all that nourishes life. They pressed Soma for Indra, the mighty bull, the strong one of true power, who, like a vigilant warrior, divided the wealth of the godless. Indra’s heroic deeds were celebrated: when he awakened the sleeping serpent with his thunderbolt, all the wives, the birds, and the gods themselves rejoiced. He slew Śuṣṇa, Pipru, Kuyava, and Vṛtra, and shattered the ninety-nine fortresses of Śambara. The people prayed that, for these deeds, Mitra, Varuṇa, Aditi, Sindhu, Earth, and Heaven would not harm them. Indra’s seat was established in its proper place, and he sat there, resounding like a roaring bull. The horses were unharnessed to rest, and the chariots, weary from their journey, were set aside as evening fell. Eager men came swiftly to seek Indra, and the gods turned away the wrath of the Dāsa, bringing prosperity to the Arya. By his own power, Indra brought forth the shining one and the foam upon the waters. Bathed in milk, like a bride, Kuyava was slain at the slope of the udder. Indra joined the navel of the two upper worlds, moving forward with the earlier heroes. The wives of heroes poured forth milk, carrying water in vessels, as the swift, thunderbolt-wielding lord advanced. Whenever Indra’s guidance was seen from afar, the wise went straight to the home of the Dasyu. The people pleaded for his generous protection, asking that he not withhold his gifts like a miser. Whether in the sun or in the waters, they begged Indra for sinless prosperity and life, asking that he never withhold his strong arm, for his faith was set upon his great power. They felt faith had been placed in them, and urged Indra to bring them great wealth, praying that he, the much-invoked, would not leave them hungry nor deprive them of sustenance. They begged Indra not to strike them down, drive them away, or take away their beloved food, not to break their eggs nor shatter their vessels, for he was born together with them. The people invited Indra to come near for the Soma, freshly pressed for his delight. They asked him to fill his belly, to hear their prayers as a father hears his children. In the vastness of creation, the moon dwelt within the waters, and the eagle soared in the sky. The tracks of the gods’ golden-wheeled chariots could not be found, but their lightnings were the sign, and the speaker knew the two worlds of the divine. The seeker found what was sought, the young wife found her husband, and the cow yielded nourishing milk—the essence of life. All this, the speaker claimed as his possession: these two worlds. The people prayed that the sunless one would not fall from the sky, nor that they would be cast into emptiness, deprived of the delightful Soma. They pondered the last sacrifice, asking the messenger to declare where the ancient rite had gone and who now upheld it. They wondered about the gods in the three luminous realms of heaven, questioning when was the right and when the wrong, and where the ancient offering was to be found. They asked when they would hold the support of truth, when they would have Varuṇa’s vision, and when they would cross the path of Aryaman’s greatness. The speaker remembered his own voice at the ritual in former times, untouched by the wealthy, just as a wolf does not thirst for a deer, for his possession was these two worlds. Yet, he felt beset on all sides, as rival wives burn with jealousy, or as a mouse gnaws at a root; so too did adversaries bite at him, but still, his possession was these two worlds. The seven rays shone forth, his navel stretched between them, and Trita knew this attainment, crying out for kinship. The five oxen stood in the midst of the great heaven, where the gods gathered and spoke among themselves. Those with beautiful wings sat in the middle enclosure of heaven, blocking the paths as a wolf might cross mighty waters. Yet, the speaker’s possession remained these two worlds. The gods uttered a new, beneficial hymn; the rivers bore forth truth, and the sun stretched out reality itself. To Agni, they offered their hymn among the gods, asking him to lead them like a wise man, guiding them with his knowledge. Agni, established as priest, gladly received the offerings, the wise god among gods. And so, the speaker affirmed: his possession was these two worlds.