Agni, having enriched Arjuna and Krishna with his boundless favour, now unfurled himself into a blazing inferno and swept upon the Khandava forest. The roar of his flames rose like the crash of Mount Meru shattered into dust. At the forest’s edge Arjuna stood with the Gandeeva, his celestial bow strung and ready; at the opposite side, Krishna kept watch, the Sudarshana Chakra poised, guarding every path of escape and thwarting every effort to quell the flames. The forest wardens, with cries and threats, tried in vain their humble arts of conservation, but Arjuna’s arrows cut them down and left them lifeless.
The tongues of fire, strengthened by Vayu’s breath, spread like a carpet of molten gold, devouring all—whether rooted, running, flying, or hidden. From burning clove and cardamom vines, from cinnamon bark and sandalwood, from musk and honeyed hives and countless blossoms, clouds of perfumed smoke mounted skyward. Celestials and Siddhas, gliding across the heavens, marvelled at the fragrant splendour. Birds that sought the open sky found themselves hemmed in by fiery threads and, scorched by the heat, fell back into the writhing flames. Earth and sky seemed joined by a single bridge of fire, while Agni danced in a crackling frenzy. The ceaseless hiss and roar of living things perishing echoed like the cosmic churning of the Milky Ocean by Mount Mandara.
The lakes and ponds boiled; lifeless fish floated upon blackened waters; red, white, and blue lotuses turned to lumps of charcoal, making the pools resemble pits of mire. Herds of serpents writhed and perished. Yet Agni’s hunger, unsated, leaped upward until even the gods grew fearful and fled to Indra, warning him of the untimely ruin of Khandava.
Startled, the lord of heaven hastened to protect his friend Takshaka. He looked upon the forest the might of countless rain-clouds, pouring torrents without pause. But the floods found no victory. Indra next hurled his thunderbolts, commanding rain to descend in unrestrained fury. Then Arjuna, unmoved, raised an impenetrable shield of arrows over the forest so that not a single drop could fall; even the breath of air could scarcely find a passage.
Meanwhile, Ashvasena, the serpent-son of Takshaka, bore his mother aloft in a desperate flight. Arjuna, keen of eye, loosed a shaft that struck the mother down, yet the son escaped. As Arjuna drew again to shoot, Indra cast a spell of enchantment that for a moment stayed the warrior’s hand and bore Ashvasena away to safety. Indra, anxious still for Takshaka’s life, raged more fiercely and covered the sky with a tempest of black clouds. From all quarters poured torrents of water, and he hurled the mighty Vajra, the thunderbolt that never fails.
But Arjuna, steadfast, reassured Agni and invoked the Vayuvyāstra. Sanctified by mantra, the weapon drove every cloud from the sky, leaving the heavens once more the domain of the Fire-God. The Vajra itself returned harmless, for Arjuna was none other than Indra’s own incarnation.
Then Indra summoned hosts of Suras, Garudas, Nagas, Asuras, Siddhas, and Gandharvas to subdue the invincible pair. They fought with strategy and force, yet Krishna and Arjuna overcame them all. Indra, astonished and desirous to test their power further, rained down stones, but the divine might of the two heroes shattered the assault. Pleased and proud, the king of gods applauded his son’s valour. Still, he sought to silence Agni and heaved Mount Mandara to crush the forest. But Arjuna shattered the mountain to fragments. The myriad hosts of Siddhas, Garudas, Sadhya’s and Nagas fell before Krishna’s Chakra and Arjuna’s unerring bow.
Then a divine voice rang from the vault of heaven: “O Indra, these are the primeval sages Nara and Narayana, born upon earth—souls of highest evolution, famed in the Yadava and Kuru lines. In ancient times, they triumphed over the fiercest deva-danava wars. Your friend Takshaka lives unharmed in Kurukshetra. Long ago, Brahma ordained that Khandava should be devoured by Agni. You cannot oppose this destiny.”
Thus admonished, Indra returned to his celestial abode with all his retinue. Krishna and Arjuna roared like lions, exulting in their triumph. At that moment, Maya, the architect and brother of Namuchi, struggling for life amidst the flames, sought refuge with Arjuna. On the warrior’s solemn assurance, he was spared, as were Ashvasena and the four Sarangakas, sons of Mandapala.
So, the great contest found its balance: on one side, the valour and chivalry of the two heroes and the hunger of the Fire-God; on the other, the celestial powers and Indra’s anxious love for his friend Takshaka. Yet the universe, in its hidden justice, reconciled both aims, proving that steadfast and honest will, strong in purpose and pure in heart, must in the end fulfill its destined work. Such is the eternal law of the cosmos
