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Anusha S Rao is the author of How to Love in Sanskrit and likes writing new things about very old things
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Credit: DH Illustration
It seems that one of the side-effects of the heavy rains in Karnataka is an increase in the incidence of snake-bites. And so, naturally, I was thinking about the origin story of the snakes in the Mahabharata.
The two wives of sage Kashyapa – Kadru and Vinata – decidedly did not get along. The sage had many other wives, who also did not get along with each other. Imagine Aditi, the mother of the gods, and Diti, the mother of the daityas – both wives of Kashyapa – and your problems might seem small in proportion to the sage’s, at least for a few moments. But, for now, let us talk of Kadru and Vinata.
It turns out that Kadru and Vinata were sisters who were given in marriage to the same Kashyapa, progenitor of all the world – the gods, the daityas, the danavas, the snakes, and so many more. So you can think of the battles of the gods and demons as being just some half-sibling rivalry. Now, Kadru and Vinata were always vying with one another. When Kashyapa offered them both a boon, Kadru asked for a thousand sons of great valour. Vinata, ever ready to outdo her, asked for two sons, but wanted them to be greater than Kadru’s thousand. Kashyapa, perhaps tired of her competitive streak, told her that she would have one and a half sons, but they would indeed be more valorous than Kadru’s thousand. And then, as you might expect, he blessed them both with successful pregnancies and went away to the forest to do his penance.
Kadru laid a thousand eggs and Vinata laid two. Wait – why are they laying eggs again? We don’t know. The Mahabharata just continues the story matter-of-factly. In some time, all of Kadru’s thousand eggs hatched, and there emerged a thousand powerful snakes. The first of these was Ananta Shesha, the serpent who performed penance to win over the gods and escape his quarrelsome brothers, and ended up as Vishnu’s couch on the ocean of milk. He also carries the earth on his hood, helping it stay aloft. But our story does not end here.
Vinata watched Kadru with her thousand sons and felt more pangs of jealousy. She decided to break open one of her eggs, just a little, to try to hurry her son up. Instead, what emerged was a half-formed Aruna, furious at her for not having the patience to wait for him to be ready to hatch. He cursed her – “Since you did this to me because of competing with Kadru, you shall become her slave for five hundred years. After that, my brother will rescue you, unless, of course, you want to hurry him up too.” And Aruna flew off into the sky.
One day, Vinata and Kadru stood watching the great flying horse, Ucchaishravas, that emerged from the churning of the ocean. And Vinata, her competitive streak emerging again, asked if Kadru wanted to bet on the colour of the horse. Vinata bet that it was entirely white, while Kadru bet that it had a black tail. They bet that whoever was wrong would be the slave of the other one for five hundred years. You see where this is going now. Kadru told her sons, the snakes, to enter the tail of the horse so it looked black. And then, she won the bet. Vinata became her slave for five hundred years, waiting patiently for her other egg to hatch, after which Garuda – the mighty enemy of the snakes and the mount of Vishnu – emerged, rescuing her from slavery, just as Aruna had predicted.
This whole story strains credulity, you might say. Imagine women laying eggs, and making bets on the colour of a horse’s tail, and then even changing white to black overnight to win the bet! Well, stranger things have happened, dear reader. After all, we live in times where a former President of the USA makes claims about immigrants eating pets, and no one bats an eyelid. In fact, they hurry to find proof.