King of Devas

The issue of divine weakness wasn't confined to Indra alone.

The great Devas of Fire, Water, Wind, and Sun also felt their strength waning. They had always drawn their power from the prayers and devotion of the mortal world. The faith and reverence of humans had always served as a conduit for their strength—each prayer, each ritual, and each offering from the worshippers had bolstered their divine forms, allowing them to maintain their positions as the caretakers of the natural world.

However, this connection had been severed as they had lost Svarga to Asuras. It was as if an unseen force was draining their power, leaving them hollow and frail. Among them, Surya, the Sun God, seemed to suffer the most.

Surya groaned, one hand pressing against his lower back as exhaustion weighed heavily on him. His golden complexion looked pale, a bitter expression etched across his face.

"Enough!" he snapped, waving his hand frantically. "Get out of my chariot! All of you, out!"

The sun-god chariot, dazzling with celestial radiance, was crammed with Devas and Gandharvas. The overburdened vehicle had pushed Surya's divine power to its limits. If not for Aruna's masterful navigation and the unparalleled strength of the chariot's fiery steeds, they might never have reached Brahmaloka.

Boom!

The overloaded chariot finally landed with a resounding crash, like a small mountain collapsing. The Devas spilled out of the chariot in a chaotic tumble, looking more like mortals than divine beings.

The Gandharvas, more agile, released their grip on the chariot's luminous ropes and landed gracefully on the ground. They straightened themselves, gazing around in awe and curiosity.

Before them stretched the divine expanse of Brahmaloka—a vast, tranquil void perfumed with the delicate fragrance of lotuses. Ethereal music, soft and otherworldly, resonated faintly in the air, filling their senses with peace.

And then, amidst the divine light that bathed the realm, a magnificent sight emerged. A radiant pink-and-white lotus materialized in the void, its petals unfurling like a sunrise. From the center of the lotus, the Creator, Brahma, appeared, seated cross-legged. His four faces gazed in all directions, embodying wisdom and omniscience. In his hands, he held the Vedas, a rosary, a lotus flower, and a kamandala, each symbolizing aspects of his boundless divinity.

The assembled crowd fell silent, humbled in the presence of the Creator. Indra, ever mindful of decorum, stepped forward, clasping his hands in reverence. His expression was solemn and respectful, his pride tempered by the gravity of the moment.

"Pranam Brahmadev!" he intoned, his voice carrying both humility and authority.

One by one, the Devas aligned themselves behind Indra, their movements now coordinated and dignified. The Gandharvas, ever graceful, mirrored their composure, standing neatly in rows.

In unison, their voices rose, a chant of devotion and respect.

"Pranam Brahma-Pita!"

"Pranam Brahma-Pita!"

Their words echoed through Brahmaloka, resonating like a hymn that reverberated into infinity.

The echoes of "Pranam" rippled through Brahmaloka, reverberating endlessly across the divine expanse. Fragrant lotus blossoms ascended into the air, filling the void with an otherworldly beauty.

The Gandharva guards stationed throughout the temple, along with the celestial dancers mid-performance, all turned toward Brahma. They paused in unison, bowing deeply to honor the Creator God.

Rahu, still groggy from his intoxication, stirred abruptly. His tail scratched the side of his head as if trying to shake off the haze. Then, with a sharp jolt, his detached head sprang into the air, swiveling toward the wine glass precariously balanced on his tail.

His disoriented expression shifted into irritation. "Seriously!" he muttered, spitting in exasperation.

Rahu raised his head—now reattached to his neck—and looked in the direction of Brahma. For the first time, a rare flicker of reverence appeared in his demeanor. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lowered himself into a posture of worship.

"Pranam, Brahma-Pita," Rahu murmured, his voice uncharacteristically solemn.

After all, Brahma was his ancestor. Rahu's father, Viprachitti, was the son of Sage Kashyapa and Diti, making Rahu a direct descendant of the Creator himself. Though his lineage was steeped in rebellion—his father Viprachitti, his mother Simhika, and the Asuras at large had waged countless wars against the Devas—Rahu could not completely deny the respect owed to Brahma.

Brahma's serene gaze swept across the Devas and Gandharvas gathered before him. Their collective chants of devotion resonated like waves, and for a fleeting moment, Brahma's snow-white beard twitched upwards in a subtle smile.

This level of reverence was once reserved for Vishnu, the Preserver of the universe. Yet now, here he was, basking in the honor.

With a deep, resonant voice, Brahma addressed the assembly. "Hiranyakashipu has seized the Svarga and declared himself the ruler of the Tri Loka. He outlawed prayer and rebelled against the Dharma. Mark my words—his downfall is inevitable!"

His gaze softened as he regarded the Devas, their weakened forms a testament to their suffering. "Devas," he continued, "for now, I can only ask you to endure this hardship."

For a moment, unease flickered in Brahma's eyes. Hiranyakashipu's ascent had been facilitated by a boon Brahma himself had granted. He silently hoped the Devas wouldn't hold it against him.

Indra stepped forward, his expression a mixture of resolve and satisfaction. The penance he had undertaken filled him with surging energy, like a kundalini fire spiraling through his body. The sensation was exhilarating.

"Lord Brahma," Indra began, his voice steady, "Hiranyakashipu may have overthrown Svarga, but in doing so, he has given us the opportunity for reflection and growth. Though we've lost the Svarga, I am confident that with the guidance of Trimurti, we can preserve the order of the universe."

Indra's lips curled into a slight smile. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a flicker of hope.

Brahma's eyes opened slightly, their radiance casting an ethereal glow across the gathering. A subtle yet satisfied smile played on his lips, revealing his delight.

He relished hearing such optimism. "Stay here in Brahmaloka for now and live well," he said warmly, his voice imbued with reassurance.

With a nod of approval, Brahma's figure shimmered and vanished, leaving the Devas in his wake.

As soon as the Creator God disappeared, the solemn atmosphere dissipated like a passing storm. The Devas, their spirits rejuvenated, quickly returned to their usual jovial selves.

"Even though we've lost Svarga, we're now in Brahmaloka—the very realm of the Creator!" Agni declared, his fiery presence practically radiating confidence. "We're still above the Asuras, trampling them beneath our feet. And let's not forget—we haven't lost a single soldier yet!"

His words struck a chord.

"That's true!" Varuna chimed in, his watery gaze sparkling with newfound clarity.

The Devas' morale lifted even higher as a group of figures approached—Soma, the god of wine, alongside Brihaspati's celestial attendants and Brihaspati's wife, Tara.

Soma exuded a carefree aura, his silver armor gleaming brilliantly under the celestial light. His smile was as intoxicating as the divine drink he was known for.

"You've all fought countless battles against the Asuras—you must be exhausted," Soma said, his tone both soothing and inviting. "I've prepared plenty of soma ras for everyone to enjoy. Whenever you're ready, it's yours!"

He gestured grandly before adding, "The Apsaras have also prepared a dance to celebrate your safety and survival. Let us revel in this moment of peace!"

Cheers erupted among the Devas. The promise of wine and festivity was all they needed to lift their spirits completely.

"Drink with us, Soma!" Rahu shouted.

"Let's go!" Varuna cheered, already heading toward the festivities.

Surya, however, paused. A fond smile touched his lips as he turned toward the Sun Palace.

"Wait for me—I'll join you soon," he called over his shoulder. "I want to check on Sanjana first."

With that, the sun god took off, his radiant figure streaking toward his palace to reunite with his beloved wife before joining the celebration.

Vayu glanced at Indra, who was still standing beside him, a contemplative expression on his face. A playful smile tugged at Vayu's lips as he nudged his friend.

"Come on, Indra! Let's go!" he said with a teasing lilt. "You've got the strongest drinking capacity among us all. I want to see you outdrink everyone in one go!"

Indra stiffened, shaking his head vigorously like a rattling drum.

"Drink?!" he exclaimed, incredulous. "That would ruin my penance! Absolutely not! I'm not drinking!"

With an air of finality, he crossed his arms. "I need to rest. You go enjoy yourself."

Vayu's expression shifted to concern. "Rest? Are you hurt, King?"

As one of Indra's closest companions, Vayu's worry was genuine. His inquiry drew the attention of the other Devas, who had been boisterously preparing for the festivities but now turned toward their king, their faces etched with concern.

"I'm fine," Indra assured them quickly, waving off their worries. "I was just thinking about the grand counterattack to get back Svarga. When the time comes, I'll lead the charge to the Svarga and force out all the Asuras!"

His words, though spoken with conviction, were little more than bluster. The so-called grand counterattack was as nebulous as the shifting winds—plans on paper that changed with the seasons. Spring counterattack! Summer counterattack! Autumn and winter, too! It was a recurring cycle of ambition and delay.

The Devas, reassured by Indra's confident declaration, returned to their revelry with eased hearts.

Indra, however, slipped away into his palace, seeking solitude to resume his penance.

The Palace of the King of Svarga was a masterpiece of opulence. Every corner gleamed with golden splendor, the pillars encrusted with radiant gems that reflected dazzling light. Silken divine drapes softened the glow, casting a serene ambiance. A faint, entrancing fragrance of incense wafted through the air, adding to the palace's otherworldly allure.

"Pranam Indra dev!"

The melodic voices of Apsaras greeted him as he passed. Their eyes sparkled like stars, their teeth pearly white against their warm smiles. Their beauty, matched only by their grace, seemed to bring the very palace to life.

Indra nodded in acknowledgment, his thoughts momentarily diverted by their presence. Despite the grandeur and admiration surrounding him, his mind remained focused on his penance—a beacon of stability in the ever-shifting realm of the divine.

Indra stood frozen for a moment, staring at his surroundings with a blank expression.

"...This is no place for ascetic practice," he muttered under his breath.

The golden light reflecting off every surface, the fragrant breeze, and the overwhelming opulence of the palace left him feeling out of place.

"This is not okay!" he exclaimed, frustration slipping into his tone. "I came here prepared to endure hardship, not bask in luxury!"

With a determined pout, Indra spun on his heel and left the palace of the King of Svarga.

But where to go?

He paused at the entrance, glancing around the gleaming city of Amravati. Every corner shimmered with golden light, so extravagantly radiant it nearly made his head spin.

"Why is Amravati City like this?!" he grumbled. "Why is everything so overdone?"

His frown deepened as he scanned the horizon. The indulgence of his surroundings only served to remind him of his goal. "I'm an ascetic," he resolved, "and I need a place that reflects that. Maybe the Nandana Garden will do the trick."

The Nandana Garden was near a place where the Devas stored their weapons. To his recollection, it was a modest and unassuming space—nothing like the grandeur of Amravati.

The Svarga had been at peace for so long that the Nandana Garden had fallen out of regular use. It seemed like the perfect retreat for his penance.

With his mind made up, Indra set off, his footsteps resolute as he moved toward the more subdued corner of Svarga.

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