Her firstborn was a son, Maināka, destined
for marriage with a Nāga, for friendship with the ocean,
in whose waters he would painlessly escape even the lightning bolt
of Indra, infuriated, chopping off the wings of mountains.
Dressed in the elephant skin, his thoughts controlled,
he lived for tapas on some mountaintop in the range of snows,
where the rushing Gangā wets the cedar trees, the odour
of musk around him and the music of the Kinnaras.