Before the existence of time as mortals know it… before kingdoms rose and legends were written…
There was only the Supreme Lord, Sri Mahavishnu, resting peacefully upon the endless cosmic ocean.
From the divine lotus that blossomed from His sacred navel emerged Lord Brahma, the Creator of the universe.
Entrusted with the responsibility of creation, Brahma began shaping existence itself.
He created the vast universe, realms, countless galaxies, shining stars, and celestial planets.
Finally, he created the Earth—a paradise filled with breathtaking beauty and perfect harmony.
Towering mountains stood proudly beneath the heavens, endless forests covered the land in emerald green, rivers flowed gracefully through every valley, and mighty oceans embraced the continents. Gentle winds carried the fragrance of blooming flowers while birds filled the skies with joyful melodies.
Everything in creation existed in perfect balance.
But Lord Brahma knew that such a magnificent universe needed protectors and rulers.
From his divine will were born the Ten Prajapatis, the great progenitors entrusted with maintaining creation.
Through their bloodlines emerged many races—the Devas, Asuras, Danavas, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, Kimpurushas, and finally, humankind.
Thus, life spread across the universe.
After completing the immense task of creation, even Lord Brahma felt exhausted.
For the first time, hunger and thirst touched the Creator.
Seeking rest, he entered Yoga Nidra, meditating in deep divine sleep.
As Brahma rested, something extraordinary happened.
From his shadow emerged terrifying beings unlike any creation before them.
Their eyes burned with endless hunger.
Their throats were dry with unbearable thirst.
The moment they were born, they rushed toward the rivers, lakes, and oceans of the Earth, desperate to consume every drop of water in existence.
The disturbance shook creation itself.
Lord Brahma immediately awakened.
In a single instant, he appeared before those creatures and stopped them.
The beings growled in desperation.
Their thirst had driven them beyond reason.
Understanding their suffering, Brahma raised his sacred Kamandala and poured divine water before them.
The creatures drank eagerly.
As their thirst disappeared, so did their rage.
Looking upon them with compassion, Lord
Brahma spoke,
"From this day onward, you shall be known as the Rakshasas."
Instead of destroying them, Brahma entrusted them with an important duty.
"Protect the waters of creation, for water is the source of all life."
Among them were two mighty twin brothers
Heti and Praheti.
Lord Brahma appointed them as the leaders of the Rakshasa race.
The Rakshasas possessed immense strength.
Their power rivaled the mighty Asuras and even surpassed many of the Devas.
As time passed, the Rakshasas formed an alliance with the Asuras.
Together they waged countless wars against the Devas, each battle fought for supremacy over the three worlds and the heavenly kingdom of Swarga.
Eventually...
Under the leadership of the great Rakshasa king Bali, the combined armies of the Asuras and Rakshasas defeated the Devas.
Even Lord Indra, the King of Heaven, was forced from his throne.
The heavens fell into darkness.
Unable to restore balance through war alone, the Devas sought refuge in Lord Vishnu.
To end the conflict and restore cosmic order, Lord Vishnu proposed the great Samudra Manthana—the Churning of the Ocean of Milk.
The mighty Mount Mandara became the churning rod.
The divine serpent king Vasuki served as the rope.
And to support the enormous mountain, Lord Vishnu incarnated as Kurma, the Great Tortoise, bearing the mountain upon His shell.
As the ocean was churned, countless celestial treasures emerged.
At last...
The sacred nectar of immortality—
Amrita—
rose from the depths.
The Devas obtained the divine nectar and regained their lost strength.
With renewed power, they defeated the Asuras and reclaimed the heavenly kingdom.
Peace returned...
But only for a while.
The Asuras never abandoned their hatred.
Generation after generation, they searched for someone powerful enough to overthrow the Devas forever.
Meanwhile...
The Rakshasa bloodline continued to grow.
From Heti came Vidyutkesha.
From Vidyutkesha came Sukesha.
From Sukesha Came Malyavan
Malyavan fathered two mighty sons—
Mali, and Sumali.
Among Sumali's children was a daughter unlike any Rakshasa before her.
Her name was Kaikesi.
Though born into the Rakshasa race, hatred never ruled her heart.
She possessed kindness, wisdom, and compassion rarely seen among her people.
Later, she married the great sage Vishrava, a descendant of Lord Brahma himself.
It was a union unlike any before—
the blood of Rakshasas joining with the sacred lineage of Brahma.
None could imagine what destiny awaited from that union.
Then...
The child was born.
The very moment he entered the world...
The Earth trembled.
Mountains shook.
The oceans roared violently.
Dark clouds covered the skies as lightning split the heavens.
Even the celestial beings looked toward the Earth in fear.
The child possessed ten heads.
A sight never before witnessed in all of creation.
He came to be known as...
"Dashagriva."
The Rakshasas rejoiced.
The Asuras celebrated.
"Our king has arrived!"
Hope filled their hearts once again.
To them...
Dashagriva was not merely a child.
He was the one destined to change the fate of the three worlds.
The Devas and great sages, however, saw something entirely different.
They sensed an overwhelming darkness growing with the child's birth.
Fear spread across the heavens.
Together they approached the Supreme Lord—
Sri Mahavishnu.
Folding their hands, they prayed,
"O Lord... protect Dharma. Protect creation."
Lord Vishnu smiled gently.
His calm voice echoed across the heavens.
"Whenever Dharma declines and evil rises beyond measure... I shall descend to Earth."
"In the Treta Yuga, I shall incarnate as Lord Sri Rama—the finest, purest, noblest, fearless, righteous, compassionate, humble, truthful, honorable, and selfless man ever to walk this Earth... the perfect embodiment of Dharma."
The gods knew...
The greatest battle between righteousness and evil had already begun.
Far away...
On Earth...
IN THE TRETA YUGA...
Far away from the grand kingdoms and magnificent palaces...
Nestled beside the dense forests near the glorious kingdom of Ayodhya, lay a small, peaceful village.
The villagers lived simple yet content lives. Every morning, they entered the forest to gather fruits, vegetables, medicinal herbs, and wooden logs, which they sold in the capital to earn their livelihood.
The forest was their home
As the golden rays of dawn filtered through the tall trees, the rhythmic sound of an axe echoed across the woods.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
A hardworking villager was cutting thick wooden logs with practiced swings of his axe. Sweat rolled down his forehead, yet a gentle smile remained on his face.
Not far from him...
A little boy sat on the grass, surrounded by small wooden toys he had carved himself.
The child was only five years old.
His name was Kritartha.
His innocent eyes sparkled with curiosity, and despite his young age, he refused to leave his father's side.
Ever since losing his mother, his father had become his entire world.
Wherever his father went...
Kritartha followed.
The little boy watched his father lifting heavy logs.
Unable to sit still any longer, he stood up, picked up a tiny branch from the ground, and dragged it toward his father with all the strength his tiny body possessed.
His father noticed him and immediately smiled.
Father: "Kritartha... how many times have I told you not to come close while I'm working?"
He gently placed the axe aside and walked toward the boy.
Father: "Stay over there and play with your toys. What if this axe slips from my hand?"
Kritartha pouted.
"I want to help you, Papa."
His father knelt before him and affectionately rubbed his little head.
Father: "And you will, But not today."
"You'll grow into a strong young man one day."
"Then we'll cut trees together."
"For now..."
He tapped Kritartha's tiny nose.
"...your biggest responsibility is to play like a good boy."
He nodded obediently.
"Okay, Papa."
With a tiny smile, he returned to his toys.
Everything felt calm...
Until...
Voices suddenly echoed through the trees.
People were shouting.
Running.
Calling one another in excitement.
The father immediately stopped swinging his axe.
He frowned.
"What's happening?"
He quickly lifted Kritartha into his arms and hurried toward the village.
The usually quiet streets had become crowded.
Men, women, elders, and even children were rushing in the same direction.
Some carried offerings.
Others wore festive clothes.
Everyone looked excited.
Kritartha's father stopped a passing villager.
"Brother... where is everyone going in such a hurry?"
The man looked surprised.
"You haven't heard?"
The father shook his head.
"What happened?"
The villager smiled brightly.
"We're all going to Ayodhya!"
Kritartha's father looked confused.
"Ayodhya?"
"Why?"
The man laughed.
"King Dasharatha has been blessed with four sons!"
"The entire kingdom is celebrating."
"They say the princes are the most beautiful children anyone has ever seen."
His excitement grew as he continued,
"But among them..."
"...the eldest prince..."
"Rama."
The man's eyes shone with admiration.
"People say there is something divine about him."
"His dark complexion shines like the endless evening sky."
"His eyes radiate compassion."
"His smile melts every heart that sees him."
"Just one glimpse of him fills people with peace."
"There is such a huge crowd in Ayodhya today that people have come from distant villages just to see the royal children."
"I must hurry before the palace gates become impossible to reach."
The man quickly ran away with the crowd.
For a few moments...
Silence surrounded the father and son.
Kritartha looked up at his father with sparkling eyes.
His face was filled with innocent excitement.
"Papa..."
"I want to see them too."
His father smiled.
"The princes?"
Kritartha nodded enthusiastically.
"I want to see Rama."
His father looked toward the road leading to Ayodhya.
Thousands of people were already making their way there.
He sighed softly.
"There will be a huge crowd."
"It won't be easy."
"You may feel scared."
"You might even lose your breath in such a crowd."
Kritartha gently held his father's hand.
"Please, Papa..."
"I really want to see Rama."
His father couldn't help but smile.
"Alright, But...You must promise me one thing that You will hold my hand all the time."
"You will never leave my side."
Kritartha immediately wrapped both his tiny hands around his father's palm.
With the brightest smile on his face, he replied,
"Ok Papa."
His father gently lifted him onto his shoulders.
"Then..."
"Let's go meet Prince Rama."
