In the days of ancient sacrifice, there was never a time when someone did not turn their mind and offerings to Indra, the mighty god. At every crossroads of ritual and need, the sacrificer yearned for Indra’s favor, just as a traveler thirsts on a long journey and seeks a smooth path ahead. None wished to be left alone at the moment of offering; all sought the company and strength of the divine giver. So the people prayed, “O Indra, do not abandon us when we face the battles even among the gods. Your strength is always new and ever-renewing. The Maruts themselves, those great storm-spirits, honor you with songs and gifts, for your generosity is renowned among all beings.” Their praise was offered not only for Indra, but for themselves as well. “Accept this hymn, O Indra, and guide us with it. Turn your gaze kindly upon us, Hariva, and let us find good fortune through your grace. May you grant us the knowledge and prosperity of a long-lived people.” Indra, king among gods, protector of humankind, was invoked as the mighty savior. “You are the true lord, the generous one who saves us. O Vasus, united and powerful, uphold us with your truth.” The people called upon Indra to drive away hostile voices and to break open the seven fortresses that threatened them, granting protection as the autumn approaches. “O youthful one, remove obstacles from the waters, and for Purukutsa, break the demon Vṛtra’s hold.” Indra’s deeds were many and mighty. He protected the wives of heroes and the very sky itself with his powers. He destroyed the demon, the parched one, and the swift-moving Turvayāṇa, like a lion casting out the sins of the wealthy from their own homes. For the sake of glory, Indra lay hidden in the womb of greatness, and by his might, he released the imprisoned waters. When he fought, he stood firm with his bold and splendid steeds, always seeking new prizes. He was called upon to carry Kutsa in a chariot drawn by the eager horses of the wind, to let the sun’s wheel move forward across the vast sky, and with his thunder-armed might, to drive away all foes. Indra struck down his enemies, urging the swift and eager ones onward, like Mitra himself. Those who sought alliance through Aryaman, he blessed with offspring, rewarding the deserving with his strength. In contests for the sun, Indra, the wise, gave the earth as support to the Dāsa, and bestowed three shining gifts. Yet, he was also asked not to grant a home to the malicious or to those who spoke evil. Ever new powers flowed to Indra, strength descending from the sky to help him overcome obstacles. He shattered the fortresses of the godless, never bowing to the drink of the deadly god. As a mighty shaker, Indra released the waters to flow as streams, and when he crossed the sea, he led Turvaśa and Yadu to safety. The people prayed, “O Indra, be our protector, the most unassailable among men, the lord of all. Conqueror of all contests, help us to know and sustain our long-lived people.” Indra’s exhilaration was like the strong drink brimming in a great vessel. His Soma, powerful and intoxicating, bestowed a thousand prizes. The people called for this exhilarating strength to come to them, for Indra was mighty in battle and unconquered by mortals. He was the hero, the winner, urging the chariot of men onward. Mighty, he destroyed the lawless Dasyu, burning them up like fire in a vessel. They prayed for him to steal away the sun’s wheel by his power, to bring destruction to Śuṣṇa, and to carry Kutsa with the horses of the wind. Indra’s intoxication was the most exhilarating, his strength the most glorious. He was the slayer of Vṛtra, provider of wide space, and the bestower of horses. As he was for the singers of old, never satiated like the ever-flowing waters, so the people called to him now, hoping to know and preserve their long-lived race. “Delight in us, O Indra, for our well-being, with the exhilarating Soma. You are invoked by the eager, and you do not let the hostile ones triumph.” Songs were directed to him alone, the one praised among peoples, who, true to his nature, was approached as the bull who bestows bounty, like barley in the field. In Indra’s two hands lay all the treasures of the five peoples. The people asked him to seek out their enemies and strike them down like a bolt from heaven. “Strike down the non-sacrificer, the malicious, those who are not your friends. Grant us knowledge and protect our portion, so that even the wise cannot take it from us.” His twofold might abided with the hymns and his power with the summit. The people called on Indra and Soma to bring them to the prize, to lead the vigorous to victory. Just as in ancient times he was a never-tiring stream for the singers, so now he was invoked again, that the people might know and sustain their long-lived race. Indra, the bull and lord of men, the king of peoples, came forth, much-invoked and seeking renown. He was called to the offering, to yoke his two strong steeds and approach swiftly. Those steeds, powerful and swift, were yoked by hymns to draw his chariot. Indra was urged to mount them and come quickly to the pressed Soma. He was asked to mount his strong chariot, to come with the bay horses to the offering, where the seat was spread, the Soma poured out, and the hymns sung. “Come, O Shakra, drink, sit down, and let your horses rest here.” The singer, full of praise, called Indra swiftly to their hymns, seeking his favor to gain wealth and the knowledge of a long-lived people. Whenever Indra’s favor was upon them, the people remembered how he had helped the singers before. They prayed that their desires would not go unfulfilled, and that they might attain all his riches. No king could harm Indra, nor even his sisters touch his place. Even the eager waters flowed to him, and through him, friendship and strength were found. Indra was the conqueror with men, the hero in battle, the one who heard the humble singer’s call. He set forth the chariot for the worshipper and raised the songs, if he was truly himself. Thus, Indra’s fame and glory surpassed all rivals. In every assembly, his strength was praised, and the worshipper’s praise made him steadfast. With Indra’s generosity, the people hoped to overcome their enemies, even those who thought themselves great, for he was their protector and strength, and through him, they would know and sustain their long-lived race. But in the midst of all this, the singer reflected on the passing of time. “I have endured many autumns,” he said, “growing weary as nights and dawns wore away my strength. Old age diminishes the beauty of bodies, yet the strong still find their way to their wives.” Even those who once kept the law, together with the gods, sometimes spoke untruths. They too grew weak and did not attain the utmost, yet the strong still reached their wives. The gods did not help in vain; even the weary could overcome their rivals. The singer had won a hundredfold battle when the two, rightly paired, came together. No desire, though restrained, came from here or there, yet Lopamudra, the wise and resolute woman, drew the strong one near and tamed the panting man. Finally, the singer called upon Soma, pressed and drunk in their hearts, praying that whatever acts had been done might be pardoned. For in the end, all men are eager for pleasure, and forgiveness is sought for their deeds.