King Śāntanu, mindful of his father Pratīpa’s counsel, consented to wed the maiden of unknown origin who came to him with the stern condition that he should never question her actions nor intrude upon her movements. Bound by promise and desire, he accepted her hand and for a time their life together seemed tranquil, though beneath the surface of palace grandeur lingered a strange unease. For though the queen bore children, each newborn was cast by her into the sacred waters of the Gaṅgā, released thereby from the curse of the sage Vasiṣṭha. With every life returned to the heavens, she seemed serene, even gratified, while whispers spread through the palace halls that some demoness had entered the royal household in human guise. No one dared confront her, though many eyes observed her grim ritual and carried their tales to the king.
Śāntanu, torn between duty, loyalty, and paternal anguish, kept his silence, bound by the vow he had made at the hour of marriage. Thus, seven infants perished in the current of the holy river. When the eighth child was born, radiant and alert as though conscious of his fate, the king’s heart would not permit silence any longer. Pressed by regal cares yet restless in spirit, he remained ever watchful of the boy, and at last, when he perceived his queen preparing to consign the child to the river, he spoke: “O queen, I have honored my pledge and bestowed every comfort upon you, yet in silence I have lost seven sons. This last-born shines like the sun itself, a treasure I cannot surrender. Though bound by word, I can endure no more. I forbid you to consign him to the waters.”
At this utterance, the queen’s countenance changed, and with a voice both majestic and sorrowful, she answered: “O king, you have broken the bond, and our union ends. Know me now in truth: I am the Ganga, sacred and venerable in the three worlds. The eight Vasus, cursed by the great Vasistha, implored me to bear them as my children, that they might be swiftly released from mortal bondage. In compassion, I assumed human form and brought them forth through you, granting them passage back to their divine state. You have earned merit beyond measure by this sharing in their redemption. Yet the eighth, who now lives, bears the greater portion of their fate. He is destined to remain on earth for long years, the embodiment of steadfastness and dharma, born for the welfare of mankind.”
The king, astonished and somewhat relieved, asked with reverence: “How came it, O goddess, that the Vasus, who are pure and unsullied, should be cursed by the venerable sage?” Ganga then recounted the tale. In the austere heights of Mount Meru, Vasiṣṭha, son of the great Varuna and guardian of Vedic order, dwelt in deep meditation, sustained by the divine cow Nandini, daughter of Surabhī. Once the eight Vasus, wandering in sport with their consorts, came upon the sage’s hermitage. The wife of Prabhasa, the youngest Vasu, beheld Nandini and coveted her for her friend Jitavatī, daughter of a mortal king. To please his consort, Prabhasa, aided by his brethren, seized the sacred cow and bore her away.
When Vasistha awoke from his trance and found his sacrificial rites bereft of their divine support, he perceived by vision what had transpired. Wrathful, he pronounced that the Vasus should be born upon earth. They pleaded for mercy, and the sage, moved by their supplication, decreed that seven of them should quickly regain their celestial abode after a brief mortal sojourn. Still, Prabhasa, as the instigator, must endure long earthly life, bereft of progeny, as expiation for his offense.
Thus Ganga, having unfolded the mystery, entrusted the infant to Śāntanu, naming him Devavrata. She bore him away for a time that he might be nurtured in wisdom and arms, trained by Vasistha in sacred lore, instructed in polity by Sukra and Brhaspati, and perfected in weapons under Parasurama. When his brilliance ripened, Ganga returned him to his father, who received him as though heaven itself had bestowed a jewel.
Śāntanu, rejoicing, proclaimed him crown prince, and in time the boy’s fame spread far and wide. Yet destiny’s path soon brought new trials. While hunting upon the banks of the Yamuna, the king espied a maiden of peerless beauty, Satyavati, daughter of the fisher-chief, and desire seized his heart. Her father consented to give her in marriage, but only upon the condition that her son should inherit the throne. Bound still by love for Devavrata, Santanu could not accept, and he returned sorrowing to his palace.
Seeing his father’s grief, Devavrata sought the cause. Learning the truth, he resolved with a firm heart to remove the obstacle. Summoning the assembly of elders, he declared that he renounced forever his claim to the throne, and, to silence all doubt, he vowed perpetual celibacy, that no son of his might contest the inheritance. This terrible and glorious vow shook heaven and earth; the gods themselves showered blossoms upon him and hailed him as Bhasma, the one of dread oath. From that moment, the fate of the Kurus was sealed, and the tide of human and celestial history.
