Gods and Demons Churn the Ocean for Ambrosia

The gods needed amrita (ambrosia) to secure their immortality and power. To get it, they had to churn the ocean of milk. The plan required a churning rod vast enough to stir the cosmic waters. They chose Mount Mandara, a peak whose cloud-piercing summits rose eleven thousand yojanas into the sky and plunged just as deep into the earth, a home to gods, celestial dancers, and fierce beasts. They could not move it. Their collective strength failed to uproot the mountain. So they went to Vishnu and Brahma, seated together, and asked for a means. Both agreed. Summoned by Brahma and directed by Narayana (Vishnu), the mighty serpent Ananta — whose coils support the world — wrapped his power around the mountain and tore it from the earth, roots and forests and all. With their churning rod, the gods went to the ocean. They announced their intent: to churn his waters for ambrosia. The lord of rivers agreed, on one condition. “Give me my share. Then I shall be able to bear the great crushing.” Next, they went to Akupara, the king of tortoises. “You will have to bear the mountain on your back.” The tortoise offered his shell. Using instruments, Indra fixed Mandara upon it. They had the rod and the base. For the rope, they took Vasuki, the king of the nagas (serpents). The asuras and danavas (demons) grasped Vasuki’s head. The gods grasped his tail. Ananta stayed with Narayana and repeatedly raised and lowered the serpent’s head, driving the motion. And they began to churn. The violence was immediate and cosmic. As the gods pulled Vasuki up and down, black smoke and flaming winds issued from his mouth. The smoke became clouds that rained showers on the exhausted laborers, refreshing them. Flowers showered from the mountain’s sides. But a terrible roar, like deep thunder, rose from Mandara as it turned. Marine creatures by the hundreds were crushed and died. Beings dwelling in the underworld met destruction. Great trees were torn from the mountain, crashing down with nestling birds still in their branches. The friction of trees rubbing together sparked great fires that blazed across the slopes, burning lions and elephants alive. Mandara looked like a dark cloud streaked with lightning. Indra, foremost of the gods, poured down rain to quench the fires. The juices of crushed herbs and the resins of the great trees flowed into the ocean. Through these essences, mixed with liquid gold, the waters first turned to milk, then to clarified butter. The gods began to draw a kind of immortality from the mixture itself. But the true ambrosia had not yet emerged. Exhausted, the gods went to Brahma. “We are tired out. Unless Narayana helps, we have no strength to churn any more.” Brahma turned to Narayana. “You are the last recourse. Give them divine strength.” Vishnu said, “I grant strength to all those who have devoted themselves to the task. Insert Mandara into the pot and turn it around.” His words filled them with new power, and they churned the ocean’s milk once more. Then the treasures began to rise. First came the moon, calm, cool, and radiant, its light rivaling a hundred thousand suns. Then from the ghee arose Shri Lakshmi, goddess of prosperity, dressed in pale white. Next came the goddess of wine, and then the white horse Uchchaishravas. Then arose the celestial jewel Kaustubha, which would come to adorn Narayana’s breast. Directed by Aditya (the sun), swift as thought, Lakshmi, wine, the moon, and the horse went to where the gods waited. Finally, from the depths rose the beautiful god Dhanvantari, physician of the gods, holding a white pot. Inside it was the amrita. The danavas saw it and raised a great uproar. “It is ours!” they shouted. At that moment, Narayana used his power of illusion. He assumed the form of a woman of breathtaking beauty and moved among the demons. Their senses left them. Their hearts utterly bewitched, the danavas and daityas took the pot of ambrosia and handed it to her.