Who Ratri is
Ratri is the Night. The Rigveda has exactly one hymn for her, eight verses near the end of the tenth book, and it is still recited today.
She is the daughter of the Sky, as Dawn is, and the two are sisters. The poets like to name them together, Dawn-and-Night, in a single word. They walk the same road in turn. Each makes room for the other, and neither keeps the sky.
The surprising thing about the Vedic Night is that she is not dark. The poet who sings to her sees a goddess arriving in all her finery, looking out over the world with many eyes. Readers have always taken the eyes to be the stars. She fills the valleys and the heights. And it is she, he says, who drives the darkness away with her light. The black, frightening dark is something separate from her, and she holds it off.
We have come home to you, Night, as birds come home to their nest in the tree.
Under her the whole world goes to rest. The villagers go in. Whatever walks and whatever flies settles down, even the hawks. Then comes the plain request that sits at the centre of the hymn. Keep the she-wolf and the wolf away. Keep the thief away. Be easy for us to cross. The poet speaks of the Night as of a river with a far bank, and the far bank is morning. At the end he hands her his hymn as a herdsman drives in his cows.
Elsewhere in the Rigveda she appears beside her sister. In the hymns to Dawn she is the dark one who gives up her house to the bright one. A poet in the fifth book even uses her as a messenger, and asks Night to carry his song to a king far away in the mountains.
The Atharvaveda has four more hymns to her. They are a householder's prayers, said for protection. They count the watchers who look down from her, by elevens, from ninety-nine to eleven, and they ask her to hand the sleepers safely on to the Dawn.
She is a small goddess beside Indra or Agni. But every creature in the Veda comes home to her once a day.