Nahusha’s Fall From Grace
My father was a great storyteller. I grew up listening to his stories. He had a magical way of recreating the atmosphere. I remember crying buckets of tears as I listened to him relating Maharana Pratap’s story, especially when Shakti Singh shouts at his brother, Pratap from behind, “Hey, Neela Ghoda sawar, Thehro!” And Pratap’s horse, Chetak, jumps over a big puddle and collapses. I am still tearing up a little as I write this.
Likewise, I still remember my father’s narration of King Nahusha’s story. I still have the imagery of Nahusha being cursed by Sage Agastya to turn into a snake because Nahusha had forced him to carry Nahusha’s palanquin on his back.
Nahusha is in a hurry to get to his amorous rendezvous and asks the sage to hurry. ‘Sarpa, sarpa,’ says Nahusha, which means, ‘Move, move.’ Sarpa comes from the root srp, which means to creep, glide. Sarpa also means a serpent, because of its gliding, slithering motion. Agastya interprets the latter meaning and curses Nahusha to turn into a snake.
The story takes place in svarga, the domain of the Devas. The imagery of a great snake falling from heaven to the bowels of the netherworlds is stuck in my head, even today.
But back to the story.
Nahusha was a great king in the dynasty of Ila and Budha (planet Mercury.) And since Budha was Chandra’s (Moon) son, he was a scion of the Chandra vamsa, or dynasty. Nahusha was the son of Ayu and the grandson of Pururavas. He was married to Viraja, said to be the daughter of the Pitrs. Yayati was his son.
I don’t want to drop too many names here, even though each has a story associated with it, and to me, every one of these stories is colorful and highly instructive. So, back to Nahusha!
Nahusha was so powerful that Indra, the king of the Devas, asked for his help in fighting with the Asuras.
In the war with the Asuras, Indra killed Vritra, a Brahmin, for which sin, he had to abdicate his throne and was exiled from his domain. Nahusha was invited to be the king of the Devas because he had completed a hundred Ashwamedha yajnas (horse sacrifices) and become eligible to get the position.
Nahusha became Indra and enjoyed the perks of his position, including the Apsaras, or the dancing girls, the Gandharvas, or the celestial singers, and the Nandana garden. By then, somehow, it was not enough. Nahusha had become too arrogant, too avaricious, and too complacent. He now wanted Indrani, Sachi. He rationalized his desire to himself. He was entitled to her because he owned everything that the previous Indra owned.
Sachi sought the help of the Deva preceptor, Brihaspati. Brihaspati, deeply sympathetic to her plight, assured Sachi of his support. Nahusha apparently found out about this conversation. In one version, he actually threatened to kill Brihaspati if the Deva Guru stopped Sachi from coming to him.
Finally, Brihaspati thought of a plan. The saptarshis, the seven great sages, got together with Brihaspati and worked out a plan. They would send Indrani to Nahusha. But she would put forth a couple of conditions for ‘accepting’ him.
I have always found it rather interesting that Indra is only a title. There were many Indras, just like there were many Manus. The fourteen Manus and Indras reign in succession, in the age of Manu, or manvantara. For each Manvantara, there are different Saptarshis. In the ‘current’ Vaivaswata manvantara, the saptarshis are Kashyapa, Atri, Vasistha, Vishwamitra, Gautama, Jamadagni, and Bharadwaja. There are two problems with this list.
Firstly, it does not have Brihaspati, Sukra, or Agastya in the set. Secondly, it is a set of people bunched together from different times. According to one list that corresponds to the saptarshi mandala (or the Big Dipper,) are Pulaha, Kratu, Pulastya, Atri, Angirasa, Vasistha, and Marichi. Interestingly, neither Bhrigu nor Agastya feature in this list.
Anyway, Sachi went to Nahusha and said, “Lord, I am pleased to marry you. But I need to know my husband is alive and well before I get on with my life.” Nahusha agreed.
Sachi found her husband and spoke to him about the predicament she was in. She asked him to return to his home and throne. Indra had to refuse. He had to complete his penance to atone for killing Vritra. But he could offer Sachi some good advice. What a poignant scene! Sachi finds her exiled husband, who tells her he cannot protect her, but he can advise her on defending herself. Think of his helplessness when he tells her, “I am sorry, my dear wife. I know I am failing you, but a little advice is all I can give you right now. Forgive me, but I have every confidence in you, I know you can escape this menace!” I can almost see him twisting hands and sighing as he keeps looking towards the way she has gone, even after he can see her no more.
Sachi came back and told Nahusha, “My Lord, I am happy to be with you. But you must come to me in style. The seven great sages must carry you in a palanquin on their backs. I am yours if you consent to this one condition of mine!” Nahusha agreed ecstatically.
Coopting the seven great sages to do this was no easy feat, but Nahusha finally pulled it off. It was that last trip to Sachi that would be his undoing.
Agastya was a short man. The palanquin leaned down, and Nahusha found it uncomfortable to sit at an awkward angle. Furthermore, Agastya’s stride was in proportion to his height, and the other palanquin bearers had to adjust to his pace. Nahusha, who was in a tizzy to meet Sachi, could not handle the bumpy ride, and impatiently yelled at Agastya to move faster.
Agastya, already chafing at the ignominy of having to be a human mule for this arrogant and lecherous king, was furious at this insult. He cursed Nahusha to be a serpent. Nahusha, now a snake, fell from the heavens and entered the netherworld.
Nahusha would stay there in that state until much later, in fact, many, many generations later.
When the Pandavas were in exile, they would go to a forest, where Nahusha lived in his serpent form. Bhima went hunting and encountered this great snake. The hungry snake encircled the mighty Bhima, as strong as ten thousand elephants in his coils, immobilizing him. This was a novel experience for Bhima, and astonished, asked the snake who he was.
Nahusha said, “I know who you are. If you answer my questions, I will spare your life. I am told I will regain my natural form if the questions in my mind are answered,” and proceeded to recount his tale of woe.
Meanwhile, Yudhishthira, Bhima’s elder brother, sensed that Bhima was in trouble. He looked for Bhima frantically and saw him held in the coils of this great snake. Nahusha engaged Yudhishthira in a debate, which soon turned into a conversation, lasting many hours, days, who knows? Both were happy at the end of it, and Nahusha regained his form and went back to heaven. Yudhishthira was enriched in thought and became a wiser man.
The story of Nahusha is told with great wisdom and in great detail at https://www.indictoday.com/long-reads/mahabharata-metaphors-king-nahusha-the-immense-fall-and-the-great-reformation/
What do I think of Nahusha? To me, Nahusha was extraordinarily powerful and accomplished, a man who performed many Ashwamedha yajnas, helped Indra defeat the Asuras, and attained Indra’s position. He became the master of the three realms, ruling the Devas, Asuras, and Manavas. And from these exalted heights, he would fall ignominiously to the precipitous lows of a serpent’s life.
As always, I feel the stories of Itihasa and Purana have a lot to tell us. Was Nahusha really carried by the seven sages bodily in a palanquin? Did Nahusha really become a snake? Did he really have a long-drawn-out conversation with a wise man in his own lineage generations later, and get liberated from a snake’s body? Obviously, these are metaphors for what must have happened.
I try to address some of these questions in my novel, Devayani, (soon to be published by Garuda Prakashana, https://www.garudaprakashan.com/) I don’t want to talk at length and risk spoilers here, but in my novel, I have taken the position that Nahusha descends into profligacy once he is established as the most powerful man in his sphere of influence. He knows he can get anything he desires, unbounded by reason, logic, decency, and dharma. He can actually force the seven sages, the conscience keepers, and opinion leaders of the society to support him in anything, no matter how capricious. But the seven sages turn the tide of public opinion against him and oust him from his position.
I also love that a woman, Sachi, is the symbol of resistance against Nahusha.
For my context, it is more important to examine the impact Nahusha’s rise to power, his promiscuity, and then, his disgrace and expulsion had on his wife, and more importantly, on his son, Yayati. Yayati, the hero of my novel, Devayani, is doubly impacted by his father’s turn of fortunes, and his mother’s response to the shame of it. This colors his own attitudes and reaction to life and love.
As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and comments about the story. What do you think about these characters? Do let me know in the comments below.
