Indra clasped his hands together in reverence, his smile serene yet commanding. He reached for a golden plate adorned with vibrant red flowers, their faint fragrance reminiscent of an ethereal garden. With a graceful motion, he scattered the flowers into the air, their delicate forms descending like a celestial offering.
Splash!
The petals rained down, fluttering gently before meeting the sacrificial fire. The red hues swirled amidst the flames, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. In that instant, the air shifted—a sudden gust carried the faint whispers of the wind, light and agile, its melody otherworldly. It harmonized with the gentle murmur of water, its sound cascading like a stream, persistent yet soft, like droplets carving through stone.
Then, they appeared.
Two divine figures emerged, their Devic auras radiating unparalleled power. The first, Vayu, wore light armor resembling deerskin, his form slender and his visage strikingly handsome. Beside him stood Varuna, clad in water-blue armor accented with golden brilliance, his regal appearance exuding a calm, commanding presence.
"We are very pleased with your offering."
The voices of the two devas resonated as one, echoing through the sacred space. Their gazes fell upon Indra, King of Svarga, and at that moment, their expressions shifted.
Boom!
The divine eyes of Vayu and Varuna widened, their brows lifting as if struck by revelation. A silent roar filled their minds, a thunderous realization that left their countenances painted with astonishment.
Indra remained unshaken.
Sitting cross-legged before the fire pit, he had shed his usual splendor. The golden armor, the dazzling crown, and the regal crimson cloak were gone, replaced by a simple white robe. A string of vajra bodhi seeds adorned his wrist, exuding a quiet, spiritual energy. His calm demeanor radiated tranquility, as though he were one with the elements he revered.
"Pranam Vayu, the Deva of Wind! Pranam Varuna, the Deva of Water!" Indra intoned, his voice steady and reverent. Once again, he brought his hands together, his smile warm and unwavering.
The flames flickered, the air stilled, and the world seemed to pause, hanging on the unspoken bond between the king and the devas of wind and water.
Vayu and Varuna brought their hands together in a gesture of respect, their gazes fixed on Indra with an air of surprise.
"Pranam King of Svarga! Praise Indra!"
"Pranam, brother Indra!"
Their voices resonated in unison, yet their expressions were a mix of admiration and unease.
That outfit...
Was the King of Svarga preparing to embark on another ascetic journey?
Indra, seated cross-legged on the ground, lifted his head, his demeanor calm yet authoritative.
"Since my offering has satisfied you both and brought you here, I ask that you continue to oversee the clouds and rain in my absence. Fulfill my wishes, O Lords of Wind and Water."
He pressed his palms together in reverence, his serene smile unwavering.
At his words, it was as if a thunderclap split the svarga. An invisible shockwave seemed to reverberate through the chamber. Vayu's eyes widened in disbelief, while Varuna's lips parted slightly, his astonishment plain. Both devas stared at Indra as if unable to process his request.
What? Them? Again?
Memories of their last endeavor resurfaced—the grueling effort they had put forth to temporarily manage the affairs of Svarga. Back then, they had worked tirelessly, finally stabilizing the kingdom before handing it back to Indra.
And now?
The offerings and prayers were restored, Svarga had been reclaimed, and divine power was in abundance. Why should they shoulder this burden again?
Yet, they were here.
The yajana had summoned them, bound by divine law and duty. This, too, was part of the Dharma.
Reluctance flashed across their faces, but slowly, they raised their right hands, pale and luminous, palms open as sacred light radiated forth. The brilliance descended upon Indra like a gentle wave of divine energy.
"Thata astu!"
"Thata astu!"
The voices of Vayu and Varuna intertwined, echoing like ripples in a still lake. Their words reverberated through the grand palace, lingering in the air until they reached Indra's ears.
Their expressions were an intricate tapestry of resignation, reverence, and frustration.
Indra's face remained solemn, his composure unshaken, but within, he brimmed with satisfaction. He was careful to mask his delight, holding back a victorious grin.
With an air of feigned seriousness, he straightened and met their gazes, his voice firm yet laced with subtle amusement.
"You are finally here." He gestured toward the space before him. "Sit down."
Indra rose slowly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He walked around the sacrificial fire, the glow of the flames casting shifting shadows on his white robes, and approached the two deities. With a gentle pat on their shoulders, he gestured for them to sit.
Vayu and Varuna knelt gracefully, settling cross-legged on the plush red carpet beside the fire. Their gazes met briefly, a shared confusion evident in their eyes.
Why was the King of Svarga embarking on another round of ascetic tapasya?
Here's the corrected and refined version of your passage:
As they pondered in silence, Indra approached and seated himself beside them. A flicker of light danced in his palm, and in an instant, a golden plate materialized. Neatly stacked upon it were soft, yellow, sweet laddos, their delicate aroma filling the air with warmth and sweetness.
"???"
Vayu and Varuna exchanged puzzled glances, their brows furrowing as they took in the peculiar scene before them.
Indra tilted his head, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Tell me, do you know how mortals would eat these laddos if their hands could not bend?"
The question lingered in the air—light as a breeze, yet strangely heavy.
The two devas turned their gaze to the plate. It shimmered faintly with a golden glow, and the laddos radiated a honeyed sweetness that stirred their appetites.
No divine powers. No bending of hands.
Their minds raced.
For them, the task was simple—summon divine winds, control flowing waters, or employ any number of supernatural abilities to consume the laddos. But to imitate mortals, bound by such limitations? That was the challenge.
Vāyu furrowed his brow, raising his right hand to pluck one of the laddoos. He held it gingerly between his fingers, preparing to guide it toward his lips with the gentlest pull of air.
"Only your hands," Indra's voice cut in—calm, amused, and firm as a closed gate. "No divine powers. Nothing else."
Vāyu froze, laddoo poised mid-air. His frown deepened.
If their hands could not bend…
Varuṇa's expression darkened in tandem. Mortals with such restrictions had only one choice: to stretch their necks awkwardly toward the food. He mimed the motion, leaning forward, chin first, attempting to bridge the gap between his lips and the plate.
Futile. The distance refused to shrink. No matter how far he strained, the food remained just out of reach.
"No," Vāyu muttered, withdrawing his hand with a frustrated sigh. "If they cannot bend their arms, it's impossible. Mortals wouldn't be able to eat at all."
Varuṇa nodded slowly, his voice matching the weight of the moment. "They wouldn't even taste a crumb. Not without help."
Their verdict was clear.
Indra, however, remained silent. His calm, knowing smile lingered as if he held the answer to a question neither of them could fathom.
Indra's smile widened, his expression calm yet filled with an unspoken warmth. He lowered his head slightly, leaning forward as his right hand reached for a sweet laddo from the golden plate. With deliberate grace, he picked up the delicacy, careful not to make any unnecessary movements, and brought it directly to Vayu's lips.
Vayu's eyes widened in shock. He froze, staring blankly at the laddo hovering before him.
At that moment, it was as if a thunderbolt had struck him, splitting his thoughts wide open. The realization hit him like a tidal wave.
So that's it!
"Family!" Vayu murmured, his voice trembling. His expression sharpened, his gaze focused with newfound understanding.
Beside him, Varuṇa's eyes remained fixed on the laddoo. His expression was unreadable—a still lake beneath which deep thoughts stirred. And then, the meaning began to dawn on him.
"We are family," Varuṇa echoed, his voice low yet unwavering.
Vāyu's solemn gaze did not falter. He spoke with calm conviction, his words carrying the unmistakable weight of revelation. "Among mortals… even if one cannot bend their hands, they can still eat. Because family is there to help them."
Indra's smile deepened, quiet and satisfied. Slowly, he placed the laddoo back onto the golden plate, his movements unhurried, each gesture as serene as flowing nectar.
"Exactly," Indra said softly.
He rose from his seat, turning his back to the two deities as his expression grew pensive. A sigh escaped his lips, heavy with the weight of responsibility.
"Now, Hayagriva, Madhu, and Kaitambha lurk in the shadows," he began, his tone grave. "They are blessed with immense power, granted by the Lord Brahma Himself. Their strength is formidable, they even dared to target the Vedas. But now, as they have failed, we don't know what treacherous schemes they are weaving."
His voice carried through the chamber, steady and resolute. "I am the King of Svarga."
Indra's words were like a declaration, his voice echoing with the authority of his station.
"It is my unshirkable duty to protect Svarga, to safeguard the Devas, to shield our families, and to preserve peace across the three realms. This is not a responsibility I can ignore."
His tone deepened further, filled with determination.
"The only way I can stand against these three asuras is to practice asceticism, to seek divine boons that will empower me to protect all that we hold dear. Yet, I cannot neglect the responsibility of bringing rain to the mortal world."
Indra's shoulders straightened, his figure radiating strength.
"I refuse to abandon the dharma. I will not betray the expectations of the Devs, nor will I forsake this sacred duty."
With a sudden movement, Indra turned to face Vayu and Varuna. His gaze locked onto theirs, his eyes blazing with resolve.
"Vayu, Varuna," he said, his voice quiet yet commanding. "My brothers."
The words hung in the air, a mixture of trust and expectation.
Vayu and Varuna stood abruptly, their expressions mirroring Indra's seriousness. A shared sense of purpose ignited in their eyes as they stared at him unwaveringly, their postures strong and ready.
The room fell silent, the weight of Indra's words settling over them like a mantle. It was clear—this was not just an exchange of words but the birth of a shared mission.
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