Having performed their sacred bath and adorned themselves with auspicious rites, the serpents prepared to partake as had been decreed. “As you have spoken, so shall it be for all of you gathered here,” was the pronouncement, and the serpents rejoiced, their wishes fulfilled. One among them declared, “From this day forth, let this mother be mine, just as you all have said—your words have come true for me.” With their hearts set on the nectar of immortality, the serpents responded, “So be it,” and went to bathe as was proper. At that very moment, Shakra seized the precious nectar and returned swiftly to his heavenly abode. Now eager for the soma, the serpents assembled at the appointed place, having bathed and recited their prayers, their forms radiant with auspicious rites and joy. Yet, driven by mutual envy, they rushed forward, each vying to be the first: “I will go first! I will go first!” they cried. But when the nectar was set upon a bed of sacred kusa grass, the serpents discovered, to their dismay, that the true nectar had been taken and only an imitation remained. Realizing what had happened, they thought, “This is the place of the soma,” and, desperate, they licked the blades of darbha grass upon which it had lain. By this act, their tongues became split in two. Because the sacred grass had been touched by the nectar, it became immortal and purifying. But the serpents, deceived and forsaking Vinata, fell into deep despair, brought low by Garuda’s power. Thus, the great-souled Garuda had carried away the nectar, and the serpents were left with their tongues divided. Meanwhile, Garuda, his purpose accomplished and his heart filled with supreme joy, delighted his mother Vinata in the forest. Honored by the birds as the devourer of serpents, his fame nevertheless was somewhat diminished by these events. Whoever hears or recites this story in the assembly of foremost Brahmins will, without doubt, attain heaven, gaining merit by praising the great-souled lord of birds. At this point, a listener addressed the narrator: “O Sutanandana, you have explained the cause of the serpents’ curse, and told the story of Vinata and her son. You have also spoken of the boons granted by their husband to Kadru and Vinata, and the names of Vinata’s two bird sons. But, O son of Suta, you have not recounted the names of the serpents themselves. We wish to hear their principal names.” The narrator replied, “O ascetic, the names of the serpents are many, and I cannot recite them all. But listen as I name their chief ones: First was born Shesha, then Vasuki. After them came Airavata, Takshaka, Karkotaka, and Dhananjaya. Kaliya, Maninaga, Apurana, Pinjaraka, Elapatra, and Vamana were also born as serpents. Then came Nilā and Anila, Kalmasha and Shabala, Aryaka and Ugraka, and Kalashapotaka. “Sumanakhya, Dadhimukha, Vimalapindaka, Apta, Kotaraka, Shankha, and Valishikha; Nishtanaka, Hemaguha, Nahusha, Pingala, Bahyakarna, Hastipada, and Mudgarapindaka; Kambala and Ashvatara, Kalikeya, the two Vrttasamvartakas, and the two known as Padma; Shankhamukha, Kushmandaka, Kshema, and Pindaraka. “Further, Karavira, Pushpadamshtra, Bilvaka, Bilvapandura, Mushakada, Shankhashira, Purnabhadra, and Haridraka; Aparajita, Jyotika, Pannaga, Shrivaha, Kauravya, Dhritarashtra, and the mighty Shankhapinda; Viraja, Subahu, the mighty Shalipinda, Hastipinda, Pitharaka, Sumukha, and Kaunapashana; Kuthara, Kunjara, Naga, Prabhakara, Kumuda, Kumudaksha, Tittiri, and Halika; Kardama, the great Naga, Naga Bahumulaka, Karkara, Akarkara, Kundodara, and Mahodara. “These, O best of twice-born, are the principal Nagas. The rest, being many, I do not name. The offspring of these, and their descendants, are countless. Knowing this, I do not recount them all, O ascetic. There are here many thousands, tens of thousands, and crores of serpents—impossible to enumerate.” A further question was then posed: “The valorous and formidable serpents have been named, O father. Having recognized the curse upon them, what did they do in response?” Among the serpents, the illustrious Shesha, abandoning his mother Kadru, undertook severe austerities. Subsisting only on air, firm in his vows, he practiced penance at Gandhamadana, at Badari, at Gokarna, in the Pushkara forest, and on the slopes of the Himalaya. In these various sacred places and shrines, he remained always solitary, disciplined, and self-controlled. As Shesha performed fierce austerities, the Grandsire beheld him—his flesh, skin, and sinews emaciated, wearing matted hair and garments of bark. The Grandsire addressed the steadfast ascetic: “What is this you are doing, Shesha? Bring welfare to beings. By your intense austerity, O sinless one, you are afflicting the world. Tell me, Shesha, what desire lies in your heart?” Shesha replied, “All my brothers, born of the same mother, are of dull minds. I cannot bear to dwell with them—may your honor grant me leave. They constantly envy one another like enemies; therefore, I undertake austerity, so that I may not witness this. They never tolerate Vinata and her son, and our other brother, Vainateya, moves freely in the sky.” Thus, the tale of the serpents, their names, their curse, and the noble austerity of Shesha was recounted, echoing the ancient wisdom and the intricate destinies woven by the great beings of old.