As Indra unleashed torrents of rain, the sky lost the radiance of sun and moon, plunging into darkness. In this shadowed world, the greatest of serpents rejoiced. Water flooded the earth in every direction, its cool, pure streams reaching even to the netherworld below. Waves surged over the land, submerging many places. Amidst this deluge, the serpents, accompanied by their mother, moved together, drawn by the prospect of finding beauty. At that moment, the delighted serpents, drenched by the streaming waters, were swiftly carried by Suparṇa, the mighty Garuḍa, to a distant island. This island, home to makaras and wondrous aquatic beings, had been fashioned by Viśvakarman, the divine architect. But as they arrived, the first thing they noticed was the dreadful salt that covered parts of the land. Journeying further with Suparṇa, the serpents saw a charming forest encircled by the ocean’s waters, alive with the calls of countless birds. The island was a marvel: rows of forests bore wondrous fruits and flowers, splendid dwellings dotted the landscape, and lotus ponds adorned its heart. Clear waters and divine lakes sparkled under the sun, while gentle breezes wafted celestial fragrances through the air. Towering Malaya trees seemed to reach the very sky, releasing showers of flowers that the wind scattered in all directions. Other trees, too, tossed their blossoms to the serpents, as if showering them with rain of flowers and water. The place delighted the mind and was beloved of Gandharvas and Apsarases. The air hummed with intoxicated bees, and the sight filled all hearts with joy. This charming, auspicious, and holy place, captivating to all who beheld it and resounding with the songs of many birds, brought happiness to the sons of Kadru. Having reached this wondrous forest, the serpents rejoiced. They turned to Suparṇa, the lord of birds, and said, “Carry us to another island, most delightful, with pure waters. You, O sky-roamer, see many beautiful lands as you travel.” Hearing their request, Garuḍa paused to reflect and then spoke to his mother, Vinatā: “Mother, why must I obey the commands of these serpents?” Vinatā replied with sorrow, “O best of birds, through misfortune and the deceit of my co-wife, I have become a slave. The serpents tricked me with a false wager, and now I am bound to them.” Learning the cause of his mother’s sorrow, Garuḍa, saddened, turned to the serpents and said, “Tell me truly, O licking ones: by bringing or knowing what, or by what act of valor, could I free my mother from slavery?” The serpents answered, “Bring us amṛta, the nectar of immortality, by your power. Then your mother will be freed from bondage, O sky-roamer.” Thus resolved, Garuḍa spoke to his mother, “I will go to bring the amṛta. But tell me, what may I eat on my journey?” Vinatā replied, “At the edge of the ocean’s depths lies the finest abode of the Nishadas, where thousands of these sinful, merciless, and wicked people dwell. Consume them, and then bring back the nectar. But you must never, under any circumstance, resolve to kill a Brahmana. The Brahmana is inviolable among all beings and without blemish. Fire, the sun, poison, and weapons—all become as a Brahmana when angered. The Brahmana is the teacher of all creatures and must not be slain, even in anger.” She continued, “One must never attack Brahmanas. Just as fire or the sun would not harm the innocent, so too must you refrain. If you encounter a Brahmana, you will know him by certain signs: he shines like fire, displays a gentle demeanor, and bears auspicious marks. If one reaches your throat and burns like a live coal, know him to be a foremost Brahmana—never slay such a one, even in anger.” Vinatā further instructed, “If someone does not decay in your belly, know him to be an excellent twice-born. Even knowing his incomparable power, those devoted to blessings—may the wind protect your wings, and the moon and sun guard your back. May fire protect your head, the Vasus your body, and Vishnu, who is everywhere, all your limbs. I, your mother, shall always be devoted to your peace and welfare. I will remain here, engaged in auspicious rites. Go, my son, along a safe path, and accomplish your task.” Hearing his mother’s words, Garuḍa spread his mighty wings and soared into the sky. Powerful and hungry as the god of death at his destined hour, he approached the dwelling place of the Nishadas. There, he consumed the Nishadas in great numbers, raising a cloud of dust that touched the sky, drying up the ocean’s waters and shaking the nearby mountains. Then, the king of birds created a vast mouth, blocking the path of the Nishadas. In their panic, the Nishadas rushed toward the gaping maw of the devourer of serpents. That immense mouth, wide open, was approached by the Nishadas like birds struck from the sky, thousands at a time, bewildered by the wind, as trees are shaken in the forest by a storm.