The Sons of Sagara

King Sagara of Ayodhyā worshipped the Lord with horse sacrifices, and at one of them Indra carried off the horse, which, as the rite requires, had been let loose to roam before it was offered. Sagara's sixty thousand sons, the sons of his queen Sumati, proud men, went to find it at their father's command, and they dug up the earth on every side. In the north-east they saw the horse near Kapila. Here is the thief who took the horse, sitting with his eyes shut, they said. Kill him, kill the wicked man. They came at him with their weapons raised, and the sage opened his eyes.

Indra had already robbed them of their wits, and now their own offence against one so great struck them down: a fire rose from their own bodies, and in a moment they were ashes. It is not right to say that they were burned up by the sage's anger. How could the darkness of anger be found in him who is the home of purity, any more than the earth's dust in the sky? It was he who launched in this world the strong boat of Sāṃkhya, by which one who seeks release crosses the sea of becoming. He has become the supreme Self: how could his mind set anyone apart from himself?