Praise be to the Ṛbhus, those wondrous craftsmen, the sons of Sudhanvan the learned one! They were mortal once, yet through their cunning and their skilful hands they did rise to dwell among the devas. No inheritance fell to them; no kingdom was granted them at their birth. Yet by their labour and their wit they fashioned themselves a path to immortality.

Consider their first work: they took the vessel of wood — a simple cup — and through their divine art they wrought it into four perfect vessels, each flawless, each more marvellous than before. Who hath ever heard of such craft? Who but the Ṛbhus could multiply and perfect at once?

In the heaven of India they were welcomed and exalted. The Adityas did acknowledge their greatness; the Maruts did make way before them. For they had proven that mortal cunning, joined to unwearying effort, might ascend to the very seat of the gods. No spell, no magic — only the work of intelligent hands, the vision of the maker's art.

Yet know ye, O mortals, that the path they trod is not easy. Many seasons passed before the devas recognized their worth. Many tasks they undertook, many trials they endured. But steadfast they remained, perfecting their craft, until at last the gods themselves could not deny them place.

The Ṛbhus show us that greatness is not the gift of fortune alone. It is born from labour and from the marriage of mind and hand. Let us too be cunning in our works, skilful in our making, faithful in our effort. For though we be born mortal, the gods do not bar the way to those who climb with unwavering purpose.