Vasuki and the Snakes Deliberate on Escaping the Curse
Vasuki, king of the snakes, has heard his mother Kadru's terrible prophecy: they will all be destroyed in a future sacrifice by King Janamejaya. He summons his brothers to council, desperate for a plan to avert their doom. The snakes propose schemes of deception, theft, and murder, but Vasuki rejects them all, left alone with the weight of a seemingly inescapable fate.
Vasuki heard the curse from his mother, Kadru, and the dread settled in. The prophecy was clear: the snakes would be annihilated in a snake-sacrifice performed by King Janamejaya. He was the best among them, their king, and the responsibility felt like a physical weight. He summoned Airavata and all his other brothers — those who were devoted to dharma (righteousness) — for a council.
He laid out the problem plainly. "A curse has been pronounced on all of us," Vasuki said. "We must consult to free ourselves. Every curse has a remedy... but he who has been cursed by his mother has none. My heart trembles." The curse had been uttered before the immutable, immeasurable, and truthful lord — Brahma himself. That divine sanction made it feel inevitable. "Without a doubt, our annihilation is imminent. Otherwise, the immutable lord would have prevented our mother. So let us consult now to see how the health of the snakes can be preserved. We must not waste time. Through our consultations, we may find a means of escape, so that Janamejaya’s sacrifice for our destruction does not take place."
The snakes assembled, wise in counsel, and began to propose solutions.
Some suggested deception. "Let us assume the form of bulls among Brahmanas and beg Janamejaya to call off the sacrifice." Others, believing themselves wiser, proposed infiltration. "We will become his best advisers. He will ask our opinion on the rituals, and we will advise him to stop. We will point out many serious evils, in this world and the next, that will result from it."
Then the proposals turned darker. "If a preceptor devoted to the king’s welfare is appointed as the priest for the snake-sacrifice, one of us can bite and kill him. If the sacrificial priest is killed, there will be no sacrifice. We can bite any other experts appointed as well."
A faction of snakes devoted to dharma objected immediately. "This advice is not good. It is not proper to kill Brahmanas. Confronted with any danger, ultimate pacification is only possible when the remedy is based on dharma. Adharma (unrighteousness) only destroys the entire world."
So other plans were put forward. "Let us become clouds luminescent with lightning and rain down showers to extinguish the sacrificial fire." "Let us go in the night, unobserved, and steal the ladles for the sacrifice. That will bring an obstruction." "Let the snakes go in their hundreds and thousands and bite everyone, creating a terror." "Let us defile the pure food with our dung and urine, so that all the food is destroyed."
Still others suggested manipulation. "Let us become officiating priests at the sacrifice and obstruct it by demanding our dakshina (ritual fee) at the very beginning. Let us overpower the king so he does what we ask." Or direct action: "When the king is sporting in the water, let us carry him home and tie him up." And finally, the most direct solution of all: "Let us go to the king and bite him at once. Through his death, the root of all our afflictions will be severed. This is the final result of our wisdom and consultations. O king! If you approve, let us proceed immediately."
Having said all this, they looked at Vasuki, the lord of the snakes.
Vasuki thought for a while. Then he addressed them all. "O snakes! This final advice of yours is not fit to be carried out." He looked over the assembly, the weight of kingship pressing down. "Not a single one of the plans given by the snakes seems right to me." The schemes were either unrighteous, impractical, or both. The burden of choice was his alone. "What can I suggest that will be for our welfare? That is the reason I am worried. The credit and the blame for the act will rest on me alone."
The council ended not with a plan, but with the king's solitary dread.