**"So there's poor Jaratkaru,"** I continued, settling into the storytelling rhythm, "wandering around the entire world with his impossibly specific marriage requirements, probably starting to wonder if he'd outsmarted himself!"
"Wait, wait," interrupted one of the younger sages, looking confused. "He's searching the whole world for a bride named Jaratkaru who would be given to him as charity? That seems... mathematically improbable."
Several other sages chuckled at this observation.
"Right?!" I exclaimed, pointing at the questioner. "That's exactly what makes this story so incredible! Jaratkaru basically set himself an impossible quest!"
Another sage, this one with a long gray beard, stroked it thoughtfully. "It sounds like he was subconsciously trying to avoid marriage altogether by setting unrealistic conditions."
"Oh, absolutely!" agreed a third sage. "Classic avoidance behavior! Make the requirements so specific that failure is guaranteed!"
"But here's the thing," I said, grinning at their perceptive comments, "Jaratkaru had made a solemn promise to his hanging ancestors. He couldn't just give up! So he started this epic world tour, searching for the impossible bride."
I stood up to act out his journey. "Picture this dedicated ascetic, who normally just meditated in one spot for years at a time, suddenly becoming the world's most reluctant traveling bachelor!"
"He goes from village to village: 'Excuse me, do you have any daughters named Jaratkaru that you'd like to give away for free to a penniless sage?'"
"'No? What about you? Any Jaratkarus available? No? Okay, I'll try the next village...'"
One of the middle-aged sages laughed. "That's got to be the worst pickup line in history!"
"The desperation must have been increasing daily," observed another. "Every failed attempt making the ancestral curse more imminent!"
"After who knows how long of this fruitless searching," I continued, "Jaratkaru finally reaches his breaking point. He goes deep into the forest—probably to avoid any more embarrassing rejections—and decides to try a different approach."
"He remembers his ancestors' words, takes a deep breath, and makes what might be the most half-hearted prayer for divine assistance in history!"
I lowered my voice to show his reluctance: "'Um... universe? If you're listening? I could really use some help finding this incredibly specific wife I promised to marry...'"
"Three times!" I emphasized. "He had to pray three times, and in a 'faint voice' according to the text! This is a man who clearly still hopes the universe will just ignore his request!"
A younger sage leaned forward excitedly. "Oh, but the universe was definitely listening, wasn't it?"
"The universe," I replied with a wicked grin, "was not only listening—it was about to deliver the most ironic solution possible!"
"Because suddenly," I announced dramatically, "WHO should rise up from the forest floor but VASUKI himself!"
The entire gathering gasped. Even the sages who knew the story seemed surprised by the dramatic timing.
"Wait," said one sage, looking startled. "Vasuki? The KING OF SERPENTS? The brother of Takshaka?"
"The very same serpent lord who rules the entire snake kingdom!" confirmed another sage, his eyes wide.
"But why would the king of snakes help a Brahmana?" asked a third, looking genuinely puzzled. "Especially when we know how this family feels about serpents!"
I held up my hand, loving their investment in the story. "Oh, that's the beautiful irony! Vasuki doesn't just appear randomly—he comes bearing the most unexpected gift!"
"Vasuki approaches this poor, desperate Brahmana and makes an offer that probably made Jaratkaru think he was hallucinating from too much fasting!"
"'O sage,' Vasuki says, 'I have something that might interest you. My sister—would you consider her as your bride?'"
"Can you imagine Jaratkaru's thoughts at this moment?" I asked the assembled sages. "He's been searching the entire human world, and suddenly the SNAKE KING is offering to be his brother-in-law!"
One sage shook his head in amazement. "The very creatures that killed his future daughter-in-law Pramadvara!"
"The enemies of his descendant Ruru!" added another.
[Both Jaratkaru and Bhrigu ( Grandfather of Ruru) are from the same Lineage]
"The species his great-grandson would spend years trying to exterminate!" contributed a third.
"EXACTLY!" I shouted, pointing at each of them. "The universe's sense of irony is absolutely flawless! The solution to the Brahmana's marriage problem comes from the very creatures his family line will have the most complicated relationship with!"
"But Jaratkaru doesn't immediately accept," I continued, watching their faces carefully. "Remember his very specific conditions? Same name, given as charity, perfect circumstances?"
"So he's standing there thinking: 'Well, she's definitely being offered as a gift, and Vasuki seems willing to give her freely, but... what's her NAME?'"
I acted out his internal monologue: "'I mean, I promised my ancestors I'd only marry someone with my exact name. But this is a SNAKE princess! Do snakes even have the same naming conventions as humans? What if her name is something like... Ssssslitheria? Or Fangsworth?'"
The younger sages started giggling at the ridiculous snake names.
"Plus," added one of the older sages, "imagine the cultural complications! A Brahmana marrying into the serpent royal family!"
"The dietary restrictions alone would be nightmare!" laughed another. "What do you serve at a wedding between vegetarian ascetics and carnivorous snakes?"
"And the in-law visits!" chimed in a third. "Honey, we're spending the holidays in the underground snake kingdom!"
"So Jaratkaru, being a man of his word but also a man of very specific requirements, asks the most important question of his life:"
I straightened up to show his formal tone: "'Tell me truly, O serpent king, what is the name of your sister?'"
"This is the moment everything hangs in the balance!" I announced dramatically. "If she has any other name—ANY other name—then Jaratkaru walks away, his ancestors remain hanging in that pit forever, and there's no Astika to save the snakes in the future!"
"The weight of multiple destinies hanging on a single name!" breathed one sage.
"The entire future of serpent-human relations depending on what Vasuki says next!" added another.
"No pressure at all!" laughed a third sarcastically.
"And Vasuki," I said with a huge grin, "delivers the most perfectly convenient answer in the history of arranged marriages!"
"'O Jaratkaru,' he says, 'this younger sister of mine is called... JARATKARU!'"
The explosion of amazement from the sages was exactly what I'd hoped for.
"NO WAY!"
"The same name?!"
"What are the odds?!"
"That's impossible!"
"Wait," said one of the more analytical sages, suddenly looking suspicious, "that's incredibly convenient. Almost suspiciously convenient. Did Vasuki perhaps... rename his sister for this occasion?"
Several other sages nodded thoughtfully at this theory.
"Or," suggested another, "maybe the universe really does have a sense of humor and actually arranged for this perfect coincidence!"
"Either way," laughed a third, "it's the most dramatically satisfying solution possible!"
"But here's the beautiful part," I continued, "Vasuki doesn't just say her name and wait. He immediately follows up with the exact words Jaratkaru needed to hear!"
"'Given away by ME, accept this slender-waisted damsel as your spouse! O best of Brahmanas, I have reserved her specifically FOR YOU! Therefore, take her!'"
"Reserved for him!" exclaimed one sage. "Like she was always meant to be his bride!"
"It fulfills every single one of his impossible conditions!" marveled another.
"Same name? Check! Given as a charitable gift? Check! Offered freely by her family? Check!" counted a third.
"It's like the universe waited for him to set the most specific requirements possible, then said, 'Hold my divine nectar and watch this!'" I concluded triumphantly.
"And what does Jaratkaru do when faced with this miraculous solution to his impossible problem?" I asked rhetorically.
"He accepts immediately! No more hesitation, no more conditions, no more delays! He marries her with all the proper Vedic rites right there in the forest!"
"Can you imagine that wedding?" laughed one sage. "The guest list alone would be incredible!"
"Bride's side: the entire serpent kingdom! Groom's side: confused forest animals and probably some very relieved ancestor spirits!" added another.
"The wedding photos would be... unique," chuckled a third.
"And the marriage ceremony combining Brahmana rituals with serpent royal traditions!" continued another. "That must have been a sight to see!"
"Not to mention the wedding gifts!" laughed yet another. "What do you give the couple that has everything and nothing simultaneously?"
"But think about the deeper meaning here," said one of the more philosophical sages, his tone becoming more serious. "This marriage represents the union of opposites—ascetic and royal, terrestrial and serpentine, spiritual poverty and material wealth."
"It's also," added another thoughtfully, "the joining of two species that will have a troubled relationship throughout history. This marriage creates the bridge between worlds."
"And their son Astika," contributed a third, "will literally embody both natures—the spiritual power of his Brahmana father and the understanding of serpent nature from his mother's lineage."
"Which makes him the perfect mediator when the conflict between Janamejaya and the snakes reaches its climax!" I added, delighted by their insight.
"So this impossible marriage that seemed like comedic coincidence," concluded the first philosophical sage, "is actually the universe setting up the exact person needed to prevent genocide centuries later."
"Long-term planning on a truly divine scale," murmured another appreciatively.
"And with that marriage," I said, settling back onto my mat, "the stage is set for one of the most remarkable births in mythological history. Because the child of this impossible union between desperate ascetic and serpent princess will grow up to face the greatest crisis the snake world has ever known."
"When King Janamejaya lights his sacrificial fires and begins calling every serpent in existence to burn in them, it will be Astika—child of both worlds, understanding both natures—who stands between extinction and survival."
The forest clearing fell silent as the weight of the foreshadowing settled over everyone.
"But that," I said softly, "is a story that deserves its own proper telling. For now, let us simply marvel at how the universe arranges the most unlikely solutions to the most impossible problems."