The Naga Serpents

The gods and the asuras stood side by side on the shore of the same ocean. It was a gathering the world had never seen. The two sides had always been sworn enemies, and yet here they were, in agreement. They needed something that no one could take by strength alone. They needed Amrita, the water of eternal life, which lay deep at the bottom of the cosmic ocean of milk.

And to reach it, they needed a rope.

That is when Vasuki enters the story.

Vasuki is the king of the Naga, the divine serpents. He is no snake from the fields. He is a sacred being, vast and majestic, the serpent that Shiva wears around his neck as his most precious treasure. The gods and the asuras needed a rope strong enough to churn the whole cosmic ocean, so they came to ask Vasuki. Vasuki listened. Then he nodded.

It was the decision of a king.

The Hindu legend is told in the Mahabharata and in the Puranas, and there the churning of the ocean is called the Samudra Manthan. The Mahabharata is an ancient Indian epic composed in Sanskrit. The Puranas are old Hindu books of sacred stories. In the legend, Mount Mandara became the churning rod. The god Vishnu took the form of Kurma, the cosmic turtle, and dived down to hold the whole mountain on his back. And Vasuki, his body longer than anyone could measure, coiled around the mountain to become the rope.

The gods held Vasuki by the tail. The asuras held him by the head. The two sides began to pull.

The gods pulled one way, and the asuras pulled the other. Mount Mandara turned. The ocean of milk boiled up and swirled into white whirlpools. And Vasuki, his body stretched without rest, still did not draw back. He did not complain. He did not give way. This king did not keep his body for himself. He gave it to serve something greater.

Then, from the depths of the ocean, wonders began to rise.

The goddess Lakshmi stepped out on a lotus flower, glowing with the light of happiness. The god Dhanvantari appeared with a sacred vessel of medicine, bringing the knowledge of healing. The jewel Kaustubha floated up, sparkling like the first star of the universe.

The divine cow Surabhi stepped onto the shore, her milk never running dry. The white elephant Airavata sprayed silver water. The Apsaras danced and drifted through the air.

Each wonder was a blessing. And every one of them began with the patience of Vasuki.

Then the most dangerous thing of all appeared.

The poison Halahala surged up from the bottom of the ocean, black as the void, strong enough to harm the whole universe. The gods and the asuras alike stepped back. Only one god stepped forward. He raised the poison to his lips and drank it all. A blue color spread across his throat. That god was Shiva, and Vasuki still coils around his neck. From then on Shiva carried the title Nilakantha, the Blue Throat.

The churning came to an end. The Amrita had been brought up from the bottom of the ocean.

In the family of divine serpents there is another one, quieter, and great in a different way. That is Ananta Sesha.

Ananta means endless. Sesha means the remainder, the one who remains when the universe dissolves.

In Hindu myth, Ananta Sesha is a serpent with a thousand heads. The god Vishnu lies at rest on his body between the cycles of creation. That is the time when the universe has not yet been made, or has been completed and waits to be born again. All of creation rests on the back of a serpent. It rests not on the strength of weapons, and not on battle, but on endurance, calm and eternity.

Vasuki offered up his own body. Ananta Sesha became the foundation of the universe.

The story of the Naga crossed the sea to Southeast Asia and reached Vietnam through the Cham. The Cham are a people of south-central Vietnam whose ancestors lived in the ancient kingdom of Champa.

The Mỹ Sơn Sanctuary is a World Heritage Site recognized by UNESCO. It lies in a valley among green mountains. The red brick towers of the kingdom of Champa, built over many centuries, still stand there. On the arches over the doorways, and on the friezes that run around the walls, the image of the Naga appears in many places. Serpents with many heads bend their bodies into arches, their tails curling. The Museum of Cham Sculpture in Da Nang keeps stone Naga carvings made by the Cham.

The Naga did not come to Vietnam through Hinduism alone. In Buddhist tradition, the Naga is a protector of the Dharma, guarding the scriptures and the holy places. A Buddhist legend tells that, soon after his awakening, the Buddha was meditating at the foot of the Mucalinda tree when a fierce rainstorm broke. The Naga Mucalinda rose up and spread his seven heads into a canopy. He sheltered the Buddha for seven whole days. The divine serpent stood guard so that the Buddha's wisdom would not be disturbed.

The Vietnamese dragon flies through the clouds, linked with kings and with the rains of the high country. The Naga coils beneath the cosmic ocean, guarding what is sacred. These are two images with two separate origins. Yet both of them say the same thing. People all across Asia have seen something sacred in the curving shape of the serpent.

For more than a thousand years, Naga figures have stood at the entrances of many Cham towers. They do not threaten. They keep watch. The descendants of Vasuki, who so patiently became the rope that churned the universe, still stand there on Vietnamese soil. Still not drawing back. Still protecting.