When King Janamejaya learned from Sage Udanka that his father Parikshit had perished by the venomous bite of the serpent Takshaka, he summoned his ministers. He demanded to know how so grievous a calamity had come to pass. The ministers recounted in solemn words the noble lineage of his father, scion of dharma, son of Uttara and Abhimanyu, grandson of Arjuna, and heir to King Pandu. In the hour when the Kuru race seemed to wane, Parikshit was born to uphold dharma, artha, kama, and moksha alike. For sixty years, he ruled in fairness and equanimity, protecting his people from sin, giving birth to a virtuous heir, and standing unsurpassed among kings. Yet fate, inexorable and unseen, led him toward destruction.
They told how Parikshit, inheriting from Pandu the passion for the chase, once pursued a wounded deer deep into the forest. Separated from his retinue and consumed by fatigue, he came upon the sage Sameeka, absorbed in meditation. Not discerning the sage’s inward state, the king, still in the restless mood of the hunt, asked him whether he had seen the deer. The silent sage, unmoved, gave no reply. Angered, Parikshit lifted a dead serpent with the hook of his bow and cast it mockingly around the sage’s neck before departing. This rash act was witnessed by a boy, Krusha, who informed Srungi, the sage’s son. Burning with wrath, Srungi cursed that on the seventh day the king would meet his end by the bite of Takshaka, the serpent sovereign.
When Sameeka, rising from meditation, learned what had happened, he rebuked his son. With heavy heart he declared that anger consumes the fruit of long penance, destroys virtue, and shakes the very foundations of dharma. To curse the protector of the realm was to weaken the shield beneath which sages perform their austerities. Yet the words, once uttered and sanctified, could not be withdrawn. He therefore sent his disciple Gouramukha to warn the king of the impending doom.
Hearing the curse, Parikshit repented bitterly of his reckless deed. He fortified himself within an impregnable citadel, guarded by warriors and scholars versed in the antidotes of serpents. Yet destiny cannot be averted. On his way to the court came Kashyapa, the great sage endowed with Brahma’s boon to restore life from snake-venom. But Takshaka, encountering him in the forest, tested his power by burning a mighty tree to ashes and then beheld it revived by Kashyapa’s mantras. Awed yet cunning, the serpent bribed the sage with wealth, persuading him to turn back, for the curse of Srungi could not be undone.
Takshaka then devised guile. With serpents disguised as Brahmin youths bearing baskets of fruits, he approached the king’s retreat. Pleased by their hymns and offerings, Parikshit accepted the gifts. At eventide, on the seventh day, believing the peril past, he lifted one of the ripe fruits. From within sprang a fiery serpent, born of Takshaka’s spell. It struck with venom blazing like flame. The king fell lifeless, and his palace was consumed in tumult. Ascetics performed his rites as ordained in the Vedas, while Janamejaya ascended the throne.
Grieved and inflamed with vengeance, Janamejaya resolved to destroy the serpent race. “As Takshaka slew my father with his poison,” he declared, “so shall I cast him and his kin into the fire of sacrifice.” He summoned priests and scholars, who assured him that the Sarpa Yajna was destined for him alone. With his queen, daughter of the King of Kashi, he prepared the vast rite. Altars were raised, offerings gathered, and learned Ritviks appointed—Chanda Bhargava as Hotri, Pingala as Adhvaryu, Sarangava as Ritvik, and Kautsa as Udgatri.
With mantras thundered forth, serpents of every lineage—single, double, triple, even seven-hooded—were dragged by the unseen cords of incantation into the blazing fire, shrieking as they fell. Terrified, Takshaka fled to Indra’s protection, while Vasuki, king of serpents, in despair turned to his sister Jaratkaru. Their son Astika, born of sage and serpent, was destined by Brahma to save his mother’s race.
Astika, radiant with virtue, approached the sacrificial hall. Blessing the king, he praised his justice, generosity, and lineage among the Chandravamsha, comparing him to Rama, Raghu, Mandhata, Bhagiratha, and other renowned sovereigns. He extolled the order and grandeur of the yajna, the fame of the priests, and the presence of Vyasa himself. Then, with gentle words, he entreated: “O king, halting this sacrifice will be the crown of your glory. By your compassion save the serpent race, and grant me this boon.”
The court, sages, and priests alike approved his request, and Janamejaya, honoring his vow never to deny a Brahmin’s word, commanded the rite to cease. At that instant, Takshaka, drawn in midair by the irresistible force of mantras, was whirling toward the sacrificial fire. But Astika’s voice of truth restrained him, and the serpent was released. Thus, the Naga race was spared from extinction, and Astika was revered as their savior.
From that day, it has been remembered that whoso chants the names of Astika and his mother Jaratkaru shall be freed from fear of serpents, for their birth and deeds are sanctified by divine purpose. And so, the vengeance of Janamejaya was tempered by wisdom, and the serpent world endured by the intercession of a sage born of two lineages.
