Svārociṣa Manvantara
The Svārociṣa Manvantara is the second of the fourteen manvantaras described in the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa. It is named after its presiding Manu, Svārociṣa Dyutimat, whose extraordinary origins trace back through a chain of remarkable events spanning the worlds of Brāhmaṇas, Apsarasas, Gandharvas, Vidyādharas, and Rākṣasas. The narrative begins not with the Manu himself, but with a young Brāhmaṇa from the city of Aruṇāspada, whose unwavering devotion to dharma and the sacred fires set into motion a lineage that would culminate in the birth of a sovereign ruler of an entire cosmic age. The account, as narrated by the sage Mārkaṇḍeya to his disciple Krauṣṭuki, documents the ancestry, birth, adventures, marriages, moral trials, and eventual renunciation of Svarocis, the father of Manu Svārociṣa, along with the divine dispensation that established the second manvantara and its associated Devas, ṛṣis, and kings.
The Birth of Svārociṣa Manu
The Brāhmaṇa of Aruṇāspada
In the city of Aruṇāspada, situated on the bank of the river Varuṇā, there lived a young Brāhmaṇa of extraordinary qualities, named Pravara. He surpassed even the Aśvins in the beauty of his form, was gentle in temperament, upright in conduct, and had completed his study of all the Vedas and Vedāṅgas. He was ever gracious to guests and served as a refuge for all who arrived at his home by night. This Brāhmaṇa harboured a deep wish to see the earth with its charming forests, gardens, and many towns.
One day, a guest arrived at his abode who possessed knowledge of the powers of various medicinal herbs and was skilled in mantra-vidyā. When Pravara, whose mind was purified by śraddhā, respectfully requested him to describe the world, the guest spoke of many countries, charming towns, forests, rivers, mountains, and holy sanctuaries. Pravara was filled with astonishment and asked how his guest could have seen so many lands without being worn out by toil, without being very old, and without having long passed his youth. The guest explained that by the power of mantras and medicinal herbs, his course was made free, and he could travel a thousand yojanas in half a day. Hearing this, Pravara earnestly requested the favour of such power, confessing his intense desire to see the earth. The guest, a Brāhmaṇa of exalted intellect, gave him an ointment for the feet and offered careful counsel regarding the regions to visit.
The Journey to Himavat
With his feet anointed by the medicinal preparation, Pravara set out for the Himavat range, reasoning that since he could travel a thousand yojanas in half a day, he would certainly return home in the remaining half. He reached the summit of Himavat (Traditional name for Himalayas) without much fatigue and began to roam over the surface of the snowy mountain.
However, the ointment on his feet, which had been extracted from the choicest medicinal herbs, was washed away by the melting snow that accumulated as he walked. His pace grew slack as he wandered about, yet he could not tear himself away from the captivating peaks of the snowy range. These were peaks loved by the Siddhas and Gandharvas, where the Kinnaras played, and where the Devas and other heavenly beings found delight. The mountain was thronged with hundreds of bevies of heavenly Apsarasas, and the Brāhmaṇa, whose hair stood erect with joy, could not be satiated by the sight.
He gazed at the mighty Himavat, captivated in one place by the fall of broken water from a torrent, made resonant in another by the cries of peacocks as they danced, thronged with lapwings and other birds, echoing with the songs of cock-koils, and fanned by breezes perfumed with scents from trees in full blossom.
After viewing the mountain in all its splendour, the young Pravara resolved to go home, intending to return the next day. But now, having lost the ointment from his feet, his step was slow from long walking. He pondered with dismay that the ointment had been destroyed by the melted snow, that the mountain was very difficult of access, and that the distance he had come was great. He worried about the loss to his rites, wondering how he would kindle a fire and perform his dutiful homage and all else that was needful. He recognized that he had fallen into a terrible strait, for his sight had been so engrossed by the fine mountain that he could not have been satiated even in hundreds of years. The melodious talk of the Kinnaras ravished his ears, the scents from trees in blossom called to his nose, the breeze was delightful to the touch, the fruits were full of juice, and the charming lakes forcibly captivated the mind. He resolved that if he could chance upon some ascetic, that person might point out the road homeward.
The Encounter with Varūthinī
As Pravara wandered on the snowy mountain, sunk in intense fatigue now that the efficacy of the medicinal herbs was gone from his feet, the Apsaras Varūthinī caught sight of him. She was a choice Apsaras of high station, the daughter of Muli, and beauteous in form.
The moment Varūthinī saw Pravara, she felt her heart drawn towards him by love, and she was immediately filled with affection. She thought to herself that his appearance was most fascinating, that her birth might reach its reward if he did not despise her. She marvelled at his handsome shape, graceful gait, and deep gaze, and wondered where his equal could be found on earth. She reflected that she had seen the Devas, the Daityas, the Siddhas, the Gandharvas, and the Nāgas, yet not one of them rivalled this mahātma in figure. If he should fall in love with her as she had with him, the store of merit he had acquired might become attainable by her. If he should cast a truly loving glance on her, no other woman in the three worlds would have gained more merit.
Sick with love, the heavenly maiden showed herself in her most lovely form. The young Pravara, on seeing the gracefully-formed Varūthinī, approached with deference and explained that he was a Brāhmaṇa from the city of Aruṇāspada, and that the ointment on his feet, by whose power he had come, had perished, dissolved by the melting snow. Varūthinī introduced herself as the daughter of Muli, well-known by the name Varūthinī, and said that she roamed the charming mountain at all times. Compelled by the sight of him, she openly declared her love and offered herself to his command.
Pravara, however, asked her only to tell him the means by which he could return to his own home. He explained that loss was befalling him in all his actions, and that grievous loss befalls a Brāhmaṇa in the perpetual and occasional ceremonies when he is away from home. Absence from home, he said, is never commended for Brāhmaṇas, and he had not sinned; it was only his curiosity to see other countries that had brought him there. He urged her, whatever she might be, to help him see his own abode before the sun set.
Varūthinī pleaded with him not to speak so, begging that the day never come when he would abandon her and resort to his home. She told him that svarga itself was not more charming, and that if they stayed together on the beloved snowy mountain, he would not remember his mortal kinsmen. She promised him garlands, garments, ornaments, loving joys, dainty food, and unguents, and pointed out the charming song of the Kinnaras, the strains of the lute and flute, the gladness-bringing breeze, the warm food, the pure water, the fragrant ointments, and the desirable bed. She assured him that old age would never light on him there, for it was the land of the thirty Devas, which gives fullness to youth. Having spoken thus, the lotus-eyed maiden, full of affection, suddenly embraced him.
Pravara firmly rebuked her, telling her not to touch him and to go to some other man. He declared that the havya offered to the Devas morning and evening sustains the eternal worlds, and that the whole of the three worlds is established on the havya to the Devas.
Varūthinī asked if she was not dear to him, if the mountain was not charming, and whom he desired besides the Gandharvas, the Kinnaras, and others. She begged him to enjoy the delights that are hard to win, even for a very little while, assuring him that he would certainly go home afterward.
Pravara declared that he continually desired only the Gārhapatya and the two other fires, that the fire-place was charming to him, and that his dear wife was the goddess who surrounded him.
Varūthinī then appealed to his compassion, saying that compassion is the foremost of the eight good qualities of the soul, and asking why he would not display it towards her. She said that forsaken by him she would not live, that she was full of affection for him, and that she did not speak falsely. Pravara replied that if she truly was full of affection and was not speaking out of mere politeness, she should tell him the means by which he could return home. Varūthinī repeated her plea, but Pravara declared that striving after delights is not commended in Brāhmaṇas, and that such striving tends to weariness in this world and yields no fruit after death.
Varūthinī tried a different argument, saying that by saving her who was at the point of death, he would gain the fruit of merit in the next world and delights in another life, and that if he refused, she would die and he would incur sin. Pravara answered that his spiritual preceptors had told him one should not covet another’s wife, and therefore he did not long for her.
The Gārhapatya Fire and the Return Home
Having spoken thus, the self-controlled and pure Pravara touched water, and prostrating himself, addressed the Gārhapatya fire with a muttered prayer. He praised the Gārhapatya fire as the source of all rites, from which alone come the Āhavanīya fire and the Dakṣiṇa fire. He declared that by the nourishment given by that fire, the Devas subsist who cause the rain, the crops, and other benefits, and that by the crops alone the whole world subsists. He adjured the fire by this truth, asking that he might see his home that day before the sun set. He adjured the fire by the earth itself, and affirmed that the thought of and the longing for another’s goods and another’s wife had never occurred to him, praying that this virtue might be perfected in him.
As Pravara spoke these words, the Gārhapatya fire appeared upon his body. Surmounted by the fire, he stood amid a circle of light and illumined the place as if he were Agni in bodily form. Vehement love seized upon Varūthinī as she beheld the Brāhmaṇa in so glorious a form. But Pravara, surmounted by the fire, immediately departed in haste. The slender-shaped heavenly maiden gazed after him as far as her eye could reach, her throat quivering with sighs. In one moment, Pravara reached his own abode and performed all the rites he had mentioned.
Varūthinī’s Grief and the Deception of Kali
Varūthinī remained with her soul and mind clinging fast to Pravara. She passed the remainder of the day and the night in almost ceaseless sighing. The faultlessly-shaped maiden sighed and cried continually, reproaching herself as luckless, though her eyes were fascinating. Neither in sport, nor in food, nor in delightsome forest, nor in charming glens did she find joy. She turned her desire towards a pair of billing cakravākas and, forsaken by the Pravara, reproached her own youthful womanhood.
She lamented how she had come to the mountain, forcibly attracted by evil fate, and how such a man had crossed the range of her eye. She cried that if he did not come to her that day, the intolerable fire of her love would consume her. Even the song of the cock-koil, once so delightful, now felt burning to her in her separation.
Now a Gandharva named Kali had long been enamoured of Varūthinī but had been rejected by her before. He beheld her in her distressed condition and wondered why she, who moved as gracefully as an elephant, was faded by the hot blast of sighing on the mountain. He wondered whether she had been wounded by some Muni’s curse or whether someone had treated her with dishonour, since she kept bedewing her face copiously with tears.
Through curiosity, Kali meditated on the matter at length and perceived the truth by the power of concentrated thought. Comprehending the situation, he pondered that he had accomplished his aim by reason of fortunate actions done before. Though she had often rejected his entreaties, she was now in love with a human being, and by virtue of that fact, she would unsuspectingly bestow her love on him if he assumed the Pravara’s shape.
Kali thereupon assumed the Pravara’s form by his inherent power and moved to where Varūthinī sat disconsolate. Seeing him, the maiden’s eyes grew wide with delight. She approached him and exclaimed again and again that she would assuredly abandon her life if bereft of him, that he would incur unrighteousness thereby, and that his sacred ceremonies would come to ruin. She said that by joining with her in the charming glen, he would acquire righteousness by saving her, and that surely he had returned because life still had some remnant for her.
Kali, still in the Pravara’s disguise, spoke as if he were anxious about his ceremonies being harmed while he lingered. He told her that he had fallen into a strait, and that she must do exactly what he said if there was to be union between them. She promised without falsehood to do whatever he commanded. He then imposed one condition: she must not gaze upon him during their union in the wood, and she must close her eyes. She agreed, declaring she would remain submissive to him in every way.
Birth of Svārocis
Kali, in the form of the Pravara, then sported with Varūthinī on mountain tops with blossoming forests, amidst charming lakes, in pleasant glens, on sand-banks in rivers, and in other delightsome places. With her eyes closed fast during their embraces, Varūthinī thought by reason of his ardour that his form was that of the young Pravara surmounted with fire.
After a time, she conceived a child. The child took its form from the Gandharva’s energy combined with her dwelling in thought on the Pravara. Kali, having soothed Varūthinī in her pregnant condition, departed, still wearing the Pravara’s shape, and she gave him a loving farewell.
The child was born a boy, with a splendour like the blazing orb of light, illuminating all the regions of the sky with his own lustre like the sun. Because he shone with his own lustre, the boy became famed by the name Svarocis. The noble boy grew day by day in age and with a multitude of good qualities, just as the new moon increases with its daily increments. He acquired skill in archery and learnt the Vedas in due order and the sciences. Then the noble boy entered the period of early manhood.
Svarocis, the Maiden Manoramā, and the Rākṣasa
Once, while the young Svarocis was roaming on Mount Mandara, he saw a lonely maiden on the mountain’s slope, helpless with fear. The moment she saw him, she cried out for him to save her. He told her to fear not, and asked what had happened. She answered in words broken by her palpitating breath.
The maiden introduced herself as Manoramā, daughter of the Vidyādhara Indīvara, born of Marudhanvan’s daughter. She explained that she had two friends: Vibhāvarī, daughter of the Vidyādhara Mandāra, and Kalāvatī, daughter of the muni Pāra. Together the three had gone to the lofty slope of Kailāsa, where Manoramā had seen a certain muni. The muni was exceedingly thin through his austerities, his neck was wasted through hunger, he was without vigour, and the pupils of his eyes were deep sunk. Manoramā had laughed at him, and he grew enraged and cursed her in a very infirm voice with his quivering lower lip, declaring that since she had laughed at him, a Rākṣasa would overcome her in no long time.
When the curse was pronounced, Manoramā’s two friends upbraided the muni, saying that through his want of forbearance his Brāhmaṇa-hood and all his austerities were undone, and that forbearance is the true dwelling-place of Brāhmaṇa-hood, while the controlling of wrath is the true performance of austerities. Hearing this, the sage of measureless glory cursed both of them as well: leprosy in the limbs would light on one, and consumption on the other. Exactly as he said, it befell them both immediately.
Manoramā told Svarocis that a mighty Rākṣasa was even now approaching on her track, and that it was the third day he had not quit her back. She offered him a weapon called the Heart of all weapons, which strikes to the heart and destroys every foe. Rudra, who wields the bow Pināka, had originally given it to Svāyambhuva Manu. Svāyambhuva gave it to Vasiṣṭha, who gave it to Citrāyudha, her mother’s father. Citrāyudha, as father-in-law, gave it to her father Indīvara as a wedding gift. Although she was a maiden, Manoramā had learnt from her father how to use this weapon. She urged Svarocis to take it quickly and slay the Rākṣasa.
Svarocis agreed, and she, sprinkling water on the weapon, gave him the Heart of weapons together with the spell for activating and stopping its secret virtue.
The Rākṣasa Vanquished and Indīvara’s Redemption
In that interval, the Rākṣasa appeared with an appalling aspect, roaring with a loud roar and hastening forward. The demon exclaimed that Manoramā was overpowered by him and demanded that she come to him speedily, asking what good it was to delay being devoured.
Seeing the Rākṣasa at hand, Svarocis thought to himself that the great muni’s word regarding Manoramā should come true, and so he let the demon seize her. The Rākṣasa approached with haste and seized the maiden of beauteous waist as she piteously cried out for Svarocis to save her. Then Svarocis, enraged, took up the active and most terrible weapon, plunged it into the Rākṣasa, and looked on with unwinking eyes. Vanquished by the weapon, the night-stalking demon released her and begged for mercy, asking that the weapon be kept in peace.
The Rākṣasa then revealed that he had been delivered by Svarocis from a very grievous curse inflicted by the wise and exceedingly fierce Brahma-mitra. When Svarocis asked why he had been cursed and what kind of curse it was, the Rākṣasa told his story.
The Brāhmaṇa Brahma-mitra had mastered the thirteen sections of the Atharva Veda and had studied the Āyurveda, which is divided into eight parts. The Rākṣasa revealed that his true name was Indīvara, that he was the father of Manoramā, and the son of Nala-nābha, king of the Vidyādharas. He had once besought the muni Brahma-mitra to communicate to him the whole of the Āyurveda, but despite repeated entreaties made with the deepest respect, the muni did not bestow the science upon him. So Indīvara gained the science by rendering himself invisible while Brahma-mitra was teaching his disciples, secretly learning over the course of eight months. When the science was fully gained, Indīvara gave way to excessive and repeated fits of laughter out of his great delight. Recognizing him by the laughter, the muni, enraged and with quivering neck, spoke harsh words: since Indīvara in invisible form, like a Rākṣasa, had snatched the science and despised the muni by laughing, he would be cast out as a terrible Rākṣasa by the curse after seven nights.
Indīvara prostrated himself before the muni and propitiated him with acts of deference. The muni, his mind softened, said that the curse could not be undone, but offered a condition for its end: after becoming a Rākṣasa, Indīvara would regain his own form when, with memory dead and in anger, he attempted to devour his own child. When he was struck by the fire of his child’s weapon, he would regain his consciousness, recover his own body, and likewise his station in the Gandharva world.
Having told this account, the now-liberated Indīvara, gleaming in heavenly raiment and bedecked with garlands and ornaments, bearing his pristine heavenly body, gave Svarocis the entire Āyurveda with its eight parts and offered his daughter Manoramā in marriage.
Manoramā’s Devotion to Her Friends
Before accepting, Manoramā spoke to her father who had regained his own form. She said that although love had sprung up exceedingly in her for Svarocis, who was her benefactor, at first sight, her two friends Vibhāvarī and Kalāvatī were afflicted with pain for her sake. She declared that she did not desire to gratify herself in delights with Svarocis while her friends suffered. Such baseness, she said, cannot be displayed even by men, let alone by a woman like herself. Since those two maidens were afflicted with pain for her sake, she would likewise remain in their pain, burnt with the fire of their grief.
Svarocis then declared that by the favour of the Āyurveda, he would make her two friends whole again, removing the great grief.
The Marriage of Svarocis and His Three Wives
Svarocis married the beauteous-eyed Manoramā, whom her father Indīvara himself gave according to the proper rites on the mountain. Having comforted the maiden, the Gandharva departed to his own city by a heavenly course.
Svarocis then went with Manoramā to the garden where Vibhāvarī and Kalāvatī dwelt, speechless and diseased through the muni’s curse. Knowing their condition accurately, Svarocis brought them both back to healthy bodies by means of medicines and potions that cure disease, drawn from his knowledge of the Āyurveda. The two maidens, freed from disease, became most resplendent and beautiful.
Vibhāvarī, now freed from her disease and filled with joy, addressed Svarocis. She declared herself the daughter of the Vidyādhara Mandāra and offered herself to him. She also offered him a jñāna by which the utterances of all created beings would become manifest to him. Svarocis accepted, saying “So be it.”
Then Kalāvatī spoke. She told Svarocis that her father was Pāra, a youthful brahmacārī and brahmarṣi, exceedingly illustrious and thoroughly learned in the Veda and Vedāṅgas. In a former spring-time, an Apsaras known as Puñjikasthalā had approached the noble muni, and he was moved to speak of love. By their union, Kalāvatī was born on the mahācala. Her mother had abandoned her as a girl, all alone in a desolate forest swarming with snakes and wild beasts, and departed. Nourished daily by the moon’s increasing phases, she had grown up, and hence her mahātma father gave her the name Kalāvatī when he took her back.
When Kalāvatī’s father was solicited by a Gandharva to give her in marriage, he refused, and the Gandharva, an enemy of the Devas, cursed him and he perished. Kalāvatī was about to destroy herself in excessive despair, but Bhagavān Śambhu’s wife Satī, Dakṣa’s daughter and devoted to truth, prevented her. Satī told Kalāvatī not to grieve, and prophesied that she would have an illustrious husband named Svarocis, that her son by him would be a Manu, and that all the Nidhis would submissively obey her command and give her wealth according to her desire. Satī gave her a jñāna called Padminī, greatly worshipped by Mahāpadma.
Kalāvatī now offered that jñāna and herself to Svarocis, who had given her life. Svarocis accepted. He then took the hands of both Vibhāvarī and Kalāvatī in marriage, while heavenly musical instruments sounded and the Apsarasas danced.
Life on the Mountain and the Discourse of the Birds
Svarocis, lustrous as the immortals and accompanied by his three wives, lived in pleasure on the high mountain. The Nidhis, being subject through the jñāna Padminī, brought gems for every kind of enjoyment, sweets and melodies, garlands, raiment, ornaments, and richly scented unguents. He obtained brilliant golden seats, golden pots and vessels, and beds of diverse kinds arrayed with heavenly coverings. Perfumed with heavenly odours and illuminated with his lustre, he and his wives enjoyed supreme delight as though in svarga.
One day, a grey lag-goose said to a hen-cakravāka who was in the water, moved by the dalliance and union between Svarocis and his wives. The goose praised Svarocis as happy, saying he possessed exceeding merit to enjoy eagerly-desired delights with darling wives in the heyday of youth. The goose reflected that young men are worthy of praise but their wives are not always of exceeding beauty, that few are the wives and husbands of exceeding beauty in the world, and that most rare is a wedded pair rich in mutual affection. The goose called Svarocis happy, saying that mutual affection exists among the happy.
But the hen-cakravāka, scarcely surprised, disagreed. She declared that Svarocis was not happy, because modesty does not spring from proximity with many women. He was enjoying one wife or another, she said, but his mind did not dwell on all of them. Since the heart’s affection has only one basis, how could he be truly affectionate to several wives? He was bartered at the price of the bestowal of jñāna, as if he were a servant, and affection does not exist equally towards many women. The hen-cakravāka declared that her own husband was happy, and she herself was happy, because his mind was fixed steadfastly on her alone and hers on him alone.
Svarocis, who by virtue of the jñāna given by Vibhāvarī understood the speech of all living creatures, heard this and was ashamed. He pondered that the bird’s words were true, without any falsehood.
The Rebuke of the Buck
After a hundred years had passed, while Svarocis was sporting on the mahāgiri with his wives, he saw a buck with very glossy and plump limbs playing among a herd of does. The buck said to the does who were sniffing with outstretched nostrils that one should behave without bashfulness, but that he was not Svarocis nor was he like him in disposition. The buck said that many have no modesty and the does should go to Svarocis if they were such. He declared that just as a female who follows many males is a laughing-stock among mankind, so is a male who is gazed on by many females with lustful glances. Such a one suffers loss from day to day in his deeds of dharma, is always attached to some other wife, and is addicted to other loves. The buck told the does to love someone else with that disposition and turn away from the future world, saying it would be well for them, for he was no rival of Svarocis.
Svarocis’s Later Years, Sons, and Cities
Thus discarded were the does by the buck. Svarocis, hearing these words and having been spoken of by both the hen-cakravāka and the buck, despised for his behavior, thought how he must have fallen. He set his mind on quitting his wives. Yet upon meeting them again, his love increased. Casting aside the disparaging speeches, he sported for six hundred years. But while performing the works of righteousness without hindrance to dharma, wise Svarocis continued to enjoy the pleasures of sense with his wives.
Three sons were born to Svarocis: Vijaya, Meru-nanda, and mighty Prabhāva. Indīvara’s daughter Manoramā gave birth to Vijaya, Vibhāvarī to Meru-nanda, and Kalāvatī to Prabhāva. By the power of the jñāna named Padminī, which accomplishes all pleasures, Svarocis built three cities for his sons. He gave a noble city named Vijaya on a hill in Kāmarūpa in the Eastern region to his son Vijaya. He established Meru-nanda’s city, the famous Nandavatī in the North, begirt with lofty ramparts and walls. He made Kalāvatī’s son Prabhāva dwell in the famous city Tāla in the Southern region. Having settled his sons in their cities, the manly hero continued to sport with his wives in charming highlands.
The Doe and the Birth of Svārociṣa Manu
Once, while Svarocis went to the forest for sport with bow in hand, he saw a boar a long distance off and drew his bow. Then a doe approached him and asked that the arrow be shot at her instead, begging him to show her this favour and lay her low quickly, saying an arrow discharged by him would free her from suffering. Svarocis said he did not perceive her body to be diseased and asked why she wished to quit her life. The doe replied that without the one on whom her mind had fixed its seat, though his heart was devoted to other females, she must die, and there was no other remedy. Svarocis asked who would not love her and with whom she was in love. The doe revealed that it was Svarocis himself she desired, that he had captivated her heart, and so she chose death by his arrow.
Svarocis pointed out that she was a doe and he bore a human form, asking how there could be union between them. The doe said that if his mind had any regard for her, he should embrace her, and that she would be supremely honoured by him.
Svarocis then embraced the doe, and as soon as he did, she assumed a heavenly body. Filled with astonishment, he asked who she was. She told him that she was the goddess of the forest, besought by the Devas with the demand that a Manu must be begotten of her by Svarocis. She asked him to beget that son who would guard the terrestrial world, declaring she spoke according to the behest of the Devas.
Forthwith, Svarocis begat in her a son marked with every auspicious mark, full of tejas like himself. As soon as the child was born, heavenly instruments of music sounded forth, the Gandharva princes sang, bands of Apsarasas danced, celestial elephants bedewed him with drops of water, and the ṛṣis rich in tapas and the Devas scattered a shower of flowers. Beholding his tejas, Svarocis himself bestowed on the child the name Dyutimat, since the regions of the sky were illuminated by his tejas. The boy named Dyutimat possessed great strength and valour, and since he was the son of Svarocis, he became known as Svārociṣa.
The Discourse of the Duck and Svarocis’s Renunciation
Once, while roaming by a charming mountain cascade, Svarocis saw a duck attended by his mate. The duck said to his mate, who was full of continuous longings, that she should restrain herself, for he had played with her long enough. He asked what need she had of pleasures at all times, since old age had fallen on them both and the time to relinquish pleasures had come.
The female duck replied that no time is unfit for pleasures, that the world is composed of pleasures, and that Brāhmaṇas with souls subdued perform yajñas in order to get pleasures. People of discrimination, eager for pleasures both experienced and not yet experienced, give alms and perform the full round of righteous acts. Pleasure, she argued, is the reward of effort among those who have discrimination and among brute animals, and how much more among those who have subdued their souls.
The duck answered that the mind of those who are not attached to pleasures is with the Supreme Soul, and asked when it could be so among those who have contracted attachments towards relatives. Creatures perish when attached to son, friend, and wife, just as aged wild elephants when sunk in lake, mire, or sea. He pointed directly to Svarocis, asking whether the female duck did not see how Svarocis, in whom attachments had grown up and who had been devoted to his lusts from boyhood, had sunk in the watery mire of affection. The duck said that Svarocis’s mind was exceedingly sunk in his wives in his youth, and now in his sons and grandsons, and asked from where it could obtain deliverance. The duck declared that he was not the equal of Svarocis in this regard, nor was he one to be distressed by females, that he possessed discrimination in pleasures and had desisted from them.
Svarocis, hearing this speech from a bird, felt disturbed in mind. Taking his wives, he departed to another grove to practise tapas. After performing severe tapas there with his wives, Svarocis, the great-minded one, reached the pure worlds with every stain removed.
The Reign of Svārociṣa Manu
The Devas, Indra and the Saptarṣis of Svārociṣa Manvantara
The adorable Bhagavān then made the Prajāpati named Svārociṣa Dyutimat a Manu. During his manvantara, the Devas were the Pārāvatas and the Tuṣitas. The Indra of the Svārociṣa period was famed as Vipaścit. The seven ṛṣis of that period were
- Ūrja,
- Stamba,
- Prāṇa,
- Dattoli,
- Ṛṣabha,
- Niścara, and
- Carvavīra.
The Lineage of the Svārociṣa Manu
That mahātma Manu Svārociṣa had seven sons, including Caitra and Kimpuruṣa among others, who were very valiant guardians of the earth. So long as his manvantara lasted, all the earth was enjoyed among the outspreadings of his family. This was the second manvantara.
Phalasruti
It is declared that the one who hears of the deeds of Svarocis and the birth of Svārociṣa and believes them with śraddhā is delivered from sins.
Source: Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa, Chapters 58 to 64