The Weight of One Arm

Matali, the charioteer of Indra, had a daughter named Gunakesi, and she was so beautiful and so good that he could find no one fit to marry her.

"Not among the gods," he told his wife. "Not among men. I shall have to look further."

He set out to search the lower worlds, and on the way he met the sage Narada, who was always going everywhere.

"I will come with you," said Narada, "and show you round."

They went down through Patala and the cities of the demons and the countries of the birds, and at last came to Bhogavati, the city of the nagas, ruled by Vasuki. There, among the young nagas, Matali saw one he liked at once: handsome, bright, well-mannered.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"Sumukha," said Narada, "of the line of Airavata. His grandfather is Aryaka."

Matali went straight to the grandfather.

"I want your grandson for my daughter," he said.

Aryaka's face fell.

"I would be honoured," he said. "But there is a difficulty. Garuda killed this boy's father and ate him. And Garuda has said that in one month he will come back and eat Sumukha too."

Matali thought about it.

"Then come with me to Indra," he said. "We will see what can be done."

They went up to heaven together. Indra was sitting with Vishnu, and they told him everything.

"Give the boy the nectar," Vishnu suggested. "Then he cannot die."

Indra did not want to go as far as that. Instead he gave Sumukha a long life, so long that a month would hardly touch it. The wedding was held, Gunakesi married her naga, and everyone was happy except one.

Garuda heard about it and came storming into Indra's hall.

"You have taken my food," he said. "The creator himself gave me the serpents to eat. Sumukha was mine. You had no right."

Indra said nothing, so Garuda turned and saw Vishnu sitting there, and went on, louder.

"And who has more right than I? I am stronger than any of you. I carry Vishnu himself, and I do it with a single feather. Without me he could not go anywhere."

Vishnu looked at him mildly.

"Is that so?" he said. "Then carry this one arm of mine."

He laid his right arm across Garuda's back.

Garuda staggered. His legs buckled. He fell flat to the ground, the feathers falling from his wings, and lay there unable to breathe, the weight of one arm pressing the life out of him.

"Forgive me," he gasped. "Forgive this creature who sits on your flag. I was drunk with my own strength."

Vishnu lifted his arm. Then, with his big toe, he flicked Sumukha up onto Garuda's breast.

"Let your behaviour never be like this again," he said.

Garuda never ate Sumukha. From that day the bird and that one snake were friends.