The sages of Naimisa, seated in quiet reverence, turned to Souti and said: “O noble Souti, you who walk upon the clear path of truth, tell us how it came to be that the serpents, possessed of fiery venom and fearful might, were cast into the flames of the great sacrifice performed by King Janamejaya. We long to know what destiny drove them thus into the consuming fire.”
Souti began his narration: “In ancient times, it was the curse of Kadru, mother of serpents, that sent her offspring rushing helplessly toward the sacrificial flames of Janamejaya’s yajña. Agni, the Fire God, began to devour them, but their race was preserved from extinction by the intervention of the sage Astika, son of the holy couple Jaratkaru. Just as Astika saved them then, so once before had the serpents been spared from utter destruction when the sage Ruru, descendant of the Bhrigu line, sought vengeance against them.”
He continued: “There was a time when the sage Bhrigu, before leaving for his ablutions, bade his wife Puloma to prepare the sacred fire for the daily rites. As she sat in the hermitage, a demon of shifting form came near and inquired of the fire itself, saying: ‘Who is this woman?’ Agni, though fearful of Bhrigu’s wrath should harm come to his wife, was unwilling to utter falsehood, for to conceal the truth is a sin heavier than the curse of any sage. Thus, he replied, ‘This is Puloma, wife of Bhrigu.’
The demon, who long ago had sought her hand and been refused, cried in anger: ‘She denied me, yet Bhrigu has taken her as wife.’ Assuming the form of a great boar, he seized Puloma and bore her away. Terrified, she wept bitterly, and from her womb the unborn child Chyavana fell to the earth, shining like the sun, burning like fire. With a fiery gaze the infant struck down the demon, who was reduced to ashes. Puloma, taking her radiant child in her arms, returned weeping to the hermitage, her tears forming a stream which Brahma named Vadhusara.
When Bhrigu returned and beheld his son, he rejoiced, yet upon hearing that Agni had spoken of his wife to the demon, his joy turned to wrath. He cursed Agni, declaring: ‘From henceforth you shall devour everything indiscriminately, without mercy.’ Agni, grieved, protested: ‘O sage, I spoke not out of malice but truth, for I cannot utter falsehood while I witness all that transpires in the universe. I am ordained as the bearer of offerings to the gods and to the ancestors. By your curse, if I devour all, the sacred order shall fall into ruin. Know that I withheld my own curse upon you, for a Brahmin, whether in error or virtue, is never to be punished by me. Still, by your words the harmony of the world trembles.’
And indeed, Agni lost his brilliance. The ritual fires—Āhavanīya, Dakṣiṇā, and Gārhapatya—grew dim; morning and evening oblations ceased, offerings to the forefathers faltered, and the balance of the world was shaken. Distressed, the sages approached the gods, and the gods in turn sought Brahma. Summoning Agni, Brahma spoke: ‘You are the foremost of powers, purifier of the worlds, the very face of the gods. The word of Bhrigu cannot be undone, yet you remain the purifier, worthy of worship, the sanctifier of sanctity itself. Resume your sacred duty, for without you the universe cannot endure.’ Thus, by Brahma’s grace, Agni was restored to his former glory, though the word of Bhrigu was fulfilled.
Chyavana, born into such a lineage, grew in Vedic wisdom and wed Sukanyā, the daughter of King Śaryāti. From their union was born Pramati, who married the celestial maiden Ghṛtācī and begot Ruru, inheritor of the Bhrigu virtues.
Ruru, reared among sages in discipline and sacrifice, beheld one day the maiden Pramadvarā, daughter of the apsara Menakā and the gandharva Viśvāvasu, raised in the hermitage of sage Sthulakesa. Enchanted, he sought her hand, and all prepared gladly for the marriage. Yet as she gathered flowers in the garden, a serpent struck her, and she fell lifeless to the ground.
Grief swept through the hermits. Ruru, stricken, withdrew into the forest, imploring gods and ancestors to restore her life, even vowing to surrender the merit of his penances. A messenger of Kāla, servant of Yama, appeared and said: ‘No soul may return once claimed, save by a rare exchange. If you yield half your own span of life to this maiden, she may rise again.’ Ruru, steadfast in love, consented before the five elements as witness. Pramadvarā awoke, radiant with new vigor, and was given once more to him in marriage.
Thus, they dwelt in contentment, yet within Ruru lingered a shadow, for half his life was gone, and the burden of his choice remained. The tale of what followed in the destiny of the sage shall be revealed in the turn of later times.”
