**"Now, hold on just a minute!"** interrupted one of the more scholarly sages, raising his hand dramatically. "Sauti, you can't just skip over the most important detail like that! You mentioned this perfect marriage solution, but what you haven't told us is WHY Vasuki was so eager to marry his sister to a random Brahmana!"
Several other sages nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Yes!" added another. "Serpent kings don't just hand out their royal sisters to wandering ascetics without good reason!"
"There has to be more to this story," insisted a third, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "What's the real motivation behind this incredibly convenient matchmaking?"
I grinned widely, absolutely delighted by their sharp questioning. *These sages are really thinking like investigators now. Perfect.*
"Ah, you've identified the crucial missing piece!" I said, pointing appreciatively at the questioners. "You're absolutely right—there's a much deeper, much more dramatic reason behind Vasuki's generous marriage offer!"
"The truth is," I began, settling into a more serious tone, "this entire marriage arrangement was actually a desperate defensive strategy orchestrated by the most terrifying mother-in-law in mythological history!"
"You see, the mother of ALL snakes—the original serpent matriarch—had pronounced a curse on her own children that made every parent's worst threat look like a gentle suggestion!"
One of the younger sages leaned forward eagerly. "What kind of curse could be so terrible that it would drive royal marriage diplomacy?"
"Oh, this wasn't just any curse," I replied dramatically. "She cursed her own offspring, saying: 'He that has the Wind for his charioteer—that's Agni, the fire god—shall BURN YOU ALL in Janamejaya's sacrifice!'"
The collective intake of breath from the assembled sages was audible.
"Wait," said one of the middle-aged sages, looking puzzled. "A mother cursed her own children to be burned alive? What kind of family dysfunction led to THAT level of maternal wrath?"
"And more importantly," added another, "how did she know about Janamejaya's sacrifice so far in advance? That's some serious prophetic ability!"
A third sage shook his head in amazement. "No wonder Vasuki was desperate enough to arrange an inter-species marriage! His entire people were under a death sentence!"
"EXACTLY!" I exclaimed, pointing at each of them. "Now you understand the real genius behind this whole arrangement! Vasuki wasn't being randomly generous—he was playing the longest strategic game in history!"
"Think about it," I continued, beginning to pace with excitement. "If the curse says all serpents will burn in Janamejaya's sacrifice, but there's going to be one person there with BOTH serpent and Brahmana heritage, someone who belongs to both worlds..."
"He could argue for mercy!" finished one sage, his eyes lighting up with understanding.
"He could speak for both sides!" added another, getting caught up in the logic.
"He'd be the perfect mediator!" contributed a third.
"The only person who could legitimately represent serpent interests in a Brahmana-dominated sacrifice!" concluded a fourth.
I clapped my hands together in delight. "You've got it! Vasuki was essentially creating the ultimate diplomatic insurance policy! He was breeding his own advocate!"
"And did it work?" I asked rhetorically. "Oh boy, did it work! Because from this carefully arranged union was born Astika—a young man who would grow up to embody the perfect balance of both natures!"
I gestured dramatically to emphasize each point: "From his father, he inherited the spiritual power, the Vedic knowledge, the ritual authority, and the moral standing to speak in any Brahmana gathering!"
"From his mother, he inherited understanding of serpent nature, loyalty to the snake kingdom, and the personal motivation to save his maternal family!"
"Plus," added one of the sages with growing excitement, "he'd have natural credibility with both sides! Neither group could dismiss him as a complete outsider!"
"And," continued another, "his very existence proves that cooperation between the species is possible!"
"He's living proof that the conflict doesn't have to be absolute!" concluded a third.
"But here's what makes Astika truly special," I continued, warming to my favorite part of the story. "He doesn't just inherit the best of both worlds—he develops into someone who genuinely cares for EVERYONE involved!"
"The text describes him as an 'illustrious ascetic, versed in the Vedas and their branches, who regarded all with an even eye.' This isn't someone who plays favorites or holds grudges!"
One of the more philosophical sages nodded approvingly. "An even eye—that suggests he achieved true impartiality despite his personal stakes in the conflict."
"Which is remarkable," added another, "considering his mother's entire family was facing extinction. Lesser people might have been consumed by bias."
"But that's exactly why he was effective," observed a third. "His moral authority came from his genuine fairness, not just his heritage."
"And," contributed a fourth with a slight smile, "he successfully 'removed the fears of both his parents'—which must have been quite the achievement given their completely opposite concerns!"
"Now here's where the story gets really intense," I said, my voice taking on a more urgent tone. "All this careful planning and preparation becomes crucial because 'after a long space of time'—after Astika has grown up, been educated, and developed his character—suddenly the prophecy activates!"
"A king from the Pandava line starts preparing for the great Snake-sacrifice! Janamejaya begins gathering priests, building altars, and getting ready to call every serpent in existence into the fire!"
One of the younger sages looked genuinely worried. "And this is when all of Vasuki's planning either pays off or fails completely?"
"The ultimate test of the long-term strategy," agreed another.
"Decades of preparation coming down to one critical moment," added a third.
"The survival of an entire species hanging on whether one young man can successfully argue with a revenge-obsessed king," concluded a fourth grimly.
"And this is where Astika proves that all the careful breeding and training was worth it!" I announced triumphantly. "When the Snake-sacrifice begins and serpents start being called to their deaths, Astika steps forward and delivers what might be the most important speech in the history of inter-species diplomacy!"
"He successfully argues for the lives of all his 'brothers and maternal uncles and other snakes'—basically, he saves the entire serpent species from genocide!"
The relief and amazement on the sages' faces was wonderful to see.
"But wait," said one of the more detail-oriented sages, "didn't he also have obligations to his father's side of the family? What about those hanging ancestors?"
"Excellent memory!" I praised. "Yes, by begetting offspring—by ensuring the family line continued—he also fulfilled his duty to his paternal ancestors, freeing them from their suspended state!"
"So he saved both sides of his family tree," marveled another sage.
"The living serpents AND the dead ancestors," added another.
"Both present and past generations," concluded a third.
"And after accomplishing these incredible feats," I continued, "Astika doesn't just rest on his laurels. He continues living as the perfect example of how to fulfill all of life's obligations!"
I began counting on my fingers: "He performs sacrifices to honor the gods. He practices the brahmacharya lifestyle to respect the sages. He begets children to satisfy the ancestors. He studies the Vedas to maintain knowledge. He undertakes austerities for spiritual growth."
"Basically," I concluded, "he becomes the template for how someone can honor multiple traditions and obligations without compromising any of them!"
One of the scholarly sages nodded thoughtfully. "A perfect example of integrated living—balancing family duties, spiritual practices, social obligations, and personal development."
"And proving that complex heritage doesn't have to mean divided loyalties," added another.
"He shows that you can be fully committed to multiple communities simultaneously," observed a third.
"The ultimate success story of cross-cultural integration," concluded a fourth with satisfaction.
"So when Jaratkaru finally completes his earthly journey and ascends to heaven," I said, bringing the story to its natural close, "he goes knowing that every debt has been paid, every obligation fulfilled, every promise kept."
"His ancestors are free, his descendants are established, his wife's family is saved, and his son has become a legendary figure in his own right."
"From the most reluctant bachelor in history to the patriarch of one of the most important lineages ever—that's quite a character arc!"
One of the sages chuckled softly. "And all because he made impossible marriage demands that the universe decided to fulfill in the most ironic way possible."
"Sometimes," added another with a smile, "the things we think will save us from our obligations actually lead us directly to our destiny."
"And sometimes," contributed a third, "what looks like cosmic coincidence is actually cosmic planning on a scale we can barely comprehend."
The clearing fell into a comfortable silence as everyone absorbed the completed story.
"There," I said finally, settling back onto my mat, "is the tale of how ancient curses, impossible marriages, strategic matchmaking, and perfect children combined to prevent the extinction of an entire species and create one of the most legendary mediators in history."