Narkumi (to Vritkanth): "Grandfather, I don't know why, but I'm no longer interested in knowing about Pururava. For now, tell me another story—something similar to this."
Vritkanth: "Alright, little one. Then I will tell you a story that a friend once told me. His name was Karkanart. He was a peacock.
Before I came to this fountain in this palace, I lived behind the palace, near those windows from where you can see the mountain range. There lies a vast lake, surrounded by dense forest—so dense that humans wouldn't even dare to enter. And there lived my friend, the peacock Karkanart."
Now the thread of the story passes into Karkanart's hands.
The scene changes.
Now this tale, woven through dialogues between Vritkanth and Karkanart, will unfold the birth of Budh (Pururava's father) and the deep mysteries of his life.
Chapter 1: The Rise of the Lunar Dynasty and the Birth of Budh
On the calm and cool banks of the Sarayu River, the sun was setting. The redness of the sky was slowly dissolving into darkness. Suddenly, there was a stir in the still waters of the lake.
An old turtle named Vritkanth lifted his head out of his shell. In front of him, seated upon a throne-like rock, was a peacock—Karkanart. With his grand feathers folded, he gazed into the quiet water of the lake.
Vritkanth (taking a deep breath): "O Karkanart! I have seen ages flow through these waters, yet the thirst of my mind remains unquenched. I have heard that you have wandered through the divine realms where destiny itself is written. Can you tell me the story of that divine force which forms the foundation of the Lunar Dynasty? I wish to know about Budh."
Karkanart (turning his long neck, fluttering his feathers): "Vritkanth, you have asked a question that lies on the blurred boundary between dharma (duty) and desire. Listen—this is not merely the tale of a king, but of a son whose very birth was destined to cause a cosmic conflict. We speak of Budh, the son of the Moon."
Vritkanth: "The son of the Moon? But the Moon symbolizes calmness—how could there be conflict in his story?"
Karkanart: "My friend, when love crosses its limits, it turns into poison. The Moon became enchanted with Tara, the wife of his own गुरु, the divine teacher Brihaspati. This was not mere attraction—it was stubborn desire that divided the gods into two factions.
On one side stood Indra and Mahadev, defending Brihaspati's honor. On the other side were Shukracharya and the Asuras, supporting the Moon."
Vritkanth: "Incredible! Gods and demons clashed over a woman?"
Karkanart: "Yes! This conflict was called the 'Tarakamayam War.' (We will discuss that battle another time.) The entire universe trembled. In the end, Brahma himself had to intervene. He ordered the Moon to return Tara.
The Moon obeyed—but when Tara returned, she was pregnant."
Vritkanth: "Did this not create a moral crisis in heaven?"
Karkanart: "Indeed, you are right. Brihaspati asked Tara—'Whose child is this?'
Tara stood silent. That silence itself felt like an insult to the gods.
Then, from within her womb, a radiant voice emerged—
'Mother, why do you hesitate? Speak the truth—whose essence am I?'"
Vritkanth (eyes narrowing in amazement): "Such wisdom… from within the womb?"
Karkanart: "That speaking child was Budh.
Tara softly answered Brihaspati's question—'Chandra (the Moon).'
And at that very moment, the child was born. His form was divine, and his intellect so sharp that even Brihaspati was impressed and accepted him. He named him Budh—meaning 'the wise one.'
But remember, Vritkanth—birth was only the beginning. Budh's true struggle was to prove his own identity."
Vritkanth asked: "What happens next?"
Vritkanth: "Karkanart, what you've told is astonishing. A child who seeks truth even before birth cannot live an ordinary life. But tell me—when Tara spoke the name 'Chandra,' how did Brihaspati react? Did he truly accept the child wholeheartedly?"
Karkanart (flapping his wings): "Ah, that is the play of destiny, my friend! Brihaspati could have become the embodiment of anger—but the moment he saw the child, his anger vanished like camphor.
Budh's radiance was so pure that it awakened affection instead of rage.
Yet whispers began among the gods—
Would an 'illegitimate' child be given a place here?
Would he ever become a king?"
Vritkanth: "So even gods worry about society? How curious."
Karkanart: "Yes. And that was the moment when Budh, with his tiny eyes, looked upon the world and understood—he would have to create his own identity.
He did not wish to live merely as 'the son of the Moon.'
From childhood, he chose solitude and scriptures as his companions."
Stigma and Radiance
The lake had now become still, as if it too was absorbing Karkanart's words. Vritkanth raised his neck a little higher; curiosity sparkled in his aged eyes.
Vritkanth: "Karkanart, you said that Brihaspati's anger subsided upon seeing the child. But did Indra and the other gods accept this wrongdoing so easily? After all, the dignity of heaven was at stake."