In ancient days, when chaos reigned and the Paṇis held dominion over all, thou didst descend, O Indra, with thy mighty bow. The caves wherein they hoarded cattle—those dark abysses filled with stolen gold—thou didst breach with lightning fury.

The cattle, long imprisoned in shadow, beheld the light of day. They lowed in ecstasy at thy coming, for thou art their liberator, their strength, their glory made manifest in bone and sinew. The Paṇis fled before thee, wailing. Their sorceries availed them not. Their enchantments shattered like clay beneath thy thunderbolt.

Thou didst restore the herds to mortals—to the Ṛṣis who sing thy praise, to the priests who kindle the sacred fire, to the warriors who follow thy banner. The cows pour forth their milk in abundance. The bulls grow strong and fearless. All the world knows that Indra hath won them back from the darkness.

But not by force alone didst thou prevail, great one. Thy wisdom guided thee. Thy cunning pierced the veil of illusion. The Paṇis thought themselves secure in their caverns, but thou hearest all things. Thou seest into the most hidden places.

Therefore do we call upon thee now, O Indra the Liberator! As thou didst free the cattle from the demon-host, so free us from fear and want. Grant us increase. Grant us victory. Grant us the vision to see through deception, and the strength to cast down those who would enslave us. Thou art our protector, our champion, our lord eternal!