And lo, Indra cried out from within the womb, even before his birth was accomplished: "I shall be mightier than my father who begat me! I shall surpass the gods in power and in glory! None shall rival me in strength!"

His mother heard these words from deep within her own body, and she trembled. "What god doth speak from within my flesh?" she cried. "What force striveth to break free from the confines of my womb?"

And Indra answered from the darkness: "I am he who shall be born this day. I am he who shall grasp the thunderbolt. I am he who shall drink of the soma and become invincible. Make way for me, O Mother! I cannot remain imprisoned in this place!"

Then came the moment of his bursting forth. The womb could not contain him. His strength was too great, his power too vast. He split open the sides of his mother and emerged, fully formed, mighty and golden, already bearing the lightning in his hand.

The gods beheld his birth and trembled. They had not known that such a force would come among them. Here was no gentle god, born weak and requiring nurture. Nay — from the instant of his emergence, Indra was terrible and mighty, ready for battle.

And he spoke to the assembled gods: "I am Indra! I have shattered the womb that bore me! I have broken forth by the power of my own limbs! Now shall I take up the thunderbolt, and now shall I slay all enemies of the gods!"

Thus was Indra born — not as other gods are born, but bursting forth in violence and power, announcing his supremacy even as he drew his first breath of the living air.