Agni:Fire its symbol and various meaning in Indian religion

In ancient India, the elemental fire was mostly indissociable from the deified fire Agni. Agni is likened to various animals in vedic metaphors (see below). These animals can be domesticated or wild, stressing the ambivalent nature of fire: fire is only temporarily tamed and threatens to run wild again, a trait that is prominently reflected in the myth of Agni’s hiding (see below). Agni’s trifunctional nature is revealed in his descriptions and in the prayers addressed to him. The hymns underscore in turn his (1) priestly, (2) warlike, and (3) domestic functions. By far, fire’s most striking symbolism is as the “spark of life.” The waters (sg. ap; pl. āpas) are Agni’s mothers from the Ṛgveda onward, and the Mahābhārata often depicts the generation of offspring by a pairing of the fiery seed with the female waters. Lastly, the motif of fire as a multiform of gems, gold, seed, and soma  is examined in various mythical narratives. 

Agni in Comparisons and Metaphors 

Agni, the personified fire, was one of the chief deities in ancient India. As A.A. Macdonell, writes, "Next to Indra he is the most prominent of the Vedic gods. He is celebrated in at least 200 hymns of the ṚV., and in several besides he is invoked conjointly with other deities" (Macdonell, 1974, 88).

Along with Soma (the deified drink made of the soma plant), Agni is one of the few gods who is bodily present for all to see, a sākṣād devatā. As the poet of Ṛgveda 6.9.4 expresses it, “[t]his is the immortal light among mortals.” At vedic sacrifices ( yajña ), the ritual offerings were poured into the fire, which was then thought to convey them to heaven, for the gods’ enjoyment. Agni is the mouth and the tongue by which the gods eat the sacrifice (see ṚV. 2.1.13–14). Naturally, fire came to occupy a central place in the vedic people’s religious and poetic concerns and forms the core of a complex web of imagery and symbolism. Agni’s importance lasted as long as the practice of vedic sacrifice endured. Omnipresent in the Vedas, Agni is still surprisingly present in the Mahābhārata and much less so in the Rāmāyaṇa and the Purāṇas. 

Physically, Agni is little anthropomorphized in the vedic texts: as the fire, he was after all present for all to see in his real, elemental form. Nevertheless, Agni’s flames form the basis of a series of metaphors involving comparisons with bodily parts: they are his tongues (ṚV. 1.14.7; 8.61.18), his horns (ṚV. 6.1.8), his hair (ṚV. 1.45.6), his beard (ṚV. 5.7.7), or his sharp jaws (ṚV.8.49.3) and teeth (ṚV. 4.5.4; 5.2.3; see Macdonell, 1974, 88–89). Another set of comparisons involves various animals with which Agni is functionally compared. Due to his strength, his hornlike flames, and the bellowing sound that he produces, he is frequently likened to a bull (ṚV. 2.35.13; 4.5.3, 15; 5.2.10, 12; etc.). When he is born, the young fire is called a calf (vatsa; ṚV.10.53.11). Agni is also often compared to a horse (ṚV. 1.149.3): as a tame, well-groomed horse, he is yoked to the sacrificial task of conveying the offerings. Finally, due to his swift course, he is frequently called a bird – an eagle (ṚV. 7.15.4) or a haṃsa – a wild goose (ṚV. 1.65.9). Since Agni’s chief duty in the sacrifice is to convey the oblations to the gods, he is himself invoked as a chariot (ṚV. 3.11.5). Elsewhere, he is said to bring the gods to the sacrifice on his shining car, drawn by two or more butter-backed ruddy steeds (ṚV. 1.14.6; 7.42.3; see Macdonell, 1974, 89–90). 

As A.A. Macdonell rightly remarks, the hymns have little to say about Agni’s exploits, since he is little anthropomorphized, but “are chiefly concerned with his various births, forms, and abodes” (1974, 91). On the one hand, Agni is said to have many births and many abodes, because he resides in all the fires and is said to be born whenever a new fire is kindled. On the other hand, the number three – three births, three abodes – is especially prominent, so that Agni can rightly be called “the earliest Indian trinity” (Macdonell, 1974, 93). Most noteworthy among his births are his terrestrial, aquatic, and heavenly births. Agni, as the terrestrial fire, is born on the earth, from the wood or plants: a reference to the churning sticks used to make fire. He is said to have entered into all the plants (ṚV. 8.43.9) and is called the “embryo of trees” (ṚV. 1.70.4). Agni’s birth from the waters is such a common vedic theme that Agni as Apāṃ Napāt (“Child of the Waters”) even became an independent deity (see e.g. ṚV. 2.35). Various terrestrial waters are designated as his parents: the ocean, rivers, streams, ponds, and water vessels. Thirdly, Agni is said to have been born in heaven, or in the highest heaven (ṚV. 1.143.2). This is either a reference to fire as lightning or else a reference to Agni Vaiśvānara (“Agni Common to All Men”) a designation of the cosmic fire or the sun (ṚV. 4.5; see Hayakawa, 2000, 231). 

Agni’s Hiding 

In vedic literature, one of the rare myths relating to a deed performed by Agni is the episode of his hiding. The story of Agni’s hiding is often mentioned in the Ṛgveda (see Feller, 2004, 54), but three consecutive hymns (ṚV. 10.51–53) develop the motif at greater length. This motif was subsequently taken up in later vedic literature and five times in the Mahābhārata. In Ṛgveda10.51, Agni goes away, and hides in the waters, enveloped in a thick embryonic membrane (ulba). Due to his effulgence, the gods espy him from afar. Agni explains why he ran away: "I fled because I feared the role of oblation-giver [hotṛ], so that the gods would not harness me to it, O Varuṇa. My bodies entered various places; I, Agni, have ceased to consider this task" (ṚV.10.51.4). "The brothers of Agni long ago ran back and forth on this task like a chariot-horse upon a road. Fearing this, Varuṇa, I went far away. I fled like a buffalo before the bowstring of a hunter" (ṚV. 10.51.6; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty). The gods entreat him to resume his sacrificial duties, promising him in exchange “a life-span free of old age” (ṚV. 10.51.7) and also “the pre-sacrifices and the post-sacrifices” and “the nourishing parts of the offering,” concluding that “[t]his whole sacrifice will be for you, Agni; the four quarters of the sky will bow to you.” (ṚV.10.51.9; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty). Mollified, Agni accepts to return, and in the subsequent hymns, the gods instruct him in his task, honor him, and appoint him as their new hotṛ (priest). 

Several motifs are apparent in this story. First of all, as J.C. Heesterman has already pointed out, the myth of Agni’s hiding prominently reflects the fact that fire is impermanent and unstable and gets extinguished easily:  "Indeed, the central theme of the cult and its imagery is not so much the security given by the fire as the fact that it constantly tends to withdraw from men and gods and to go into hiding" (Heesterman, 1983, 77).

Another motif observable here is the tension and wavering between the wild and the tame fire. The fire is merely tamed, not really domesticated, and it tends to run wild at the first opportunity. The imagery employed in the above hymn illustrates this: Agni’s elder brothers were tame cart horses (rathin), who ploughed the sacrificial field and came to harm. Agni, however, compares himself to a wild buffalo, a gaura (Bos Gaurus), who shies away from the hunter’s bow and refuses to be captured and killed. In ancient Indian classificatory systems, thegaura was precisely the wild equivalent of the horse (see Smith, 1991, 536, referring to AitBr. 2.8). Elsewhere too, the comparisons applied to Agni reflect the same bipolarity: Agni, when tame, is likened to a calf or a domestic animal (paśu), but the wild fire is compared to a thief, a lion, or, as above, to a wild buffalo (see Feller, 2004, 67). The opposition is of course not only between tame and wild but also, by extension, between sacrificial and non-sacrificial, since only domestic animals are fit for the sacrifice. It is therefore necessary to tame the wild Agni before making him perform the desired sacrificial tasks. 

The later vedic texts fix the number of Agni’s elder brothers at three, the minimum implied by the plural bhrātaraḥ. In most versions of the story of Agni’s hiding (see Feller, 2004, 74–79), they are said to be the three sticks (paridhi) surrounding the sacrificial fire, which came to harm, being sometimes struck down by the vaṣaṭ call. The exclamation “vaṣaṭ,” pronounced by thehotṛ priest at the end of a verse, signals that the adhvaryu priest should pour an offering into the fire. The vaṣaṭ call is notoriously dangerous, and is often compared to lightning, for if the hotṛthinks of an enemy while exclaiming “vaṣaṭ,” it is believed he can thereby slay his enemy. Often, the later vedic texts make use of the story of Agni’s hiding in order to explain and illustrate cyclical ceremonies, especially the punarādheya ritual, the reinstatement of the fire. The texts prescribe this ceremony in certain cases when the first instatement (ādheya) has not produced the desired results (see Krick, 1982, 514–536). In the Ṛgveda, however, the event of Agni’s hiding is not described as a cyclical phenomenon but as a one-time occurrence, which happened long ago, in hoary mythical times. Also, it is never said that Agni had only three elder brothers. Indeed, he may have had an infinite number of elder brothers, who died when their sacrificial use came to an end, the way an untended fire dies. Thus the myth may well record how this Agni – the sacrificial fire – gained a place among the immortals. We see in the Ṛgvedathat Agni drives a hard bargain. He accepts to come out of hiding and resume his duties only on the condition that he will receive a share of the sacrificial offering: "Give me alone the pre-sacrifices and the post-sacrifices, the nourishing part of the offering; and the clarified butter out of the waters and the Man out of the plants. And let the life-span of Agni be long, O Gods" (ṚV.10.51.8; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty).

Most strikingly, we see that Agni here demands “the Man [Puruṣa] out of the plants.” This “man of the plants” is probably the soma, which has a masculine name, whereas most plants are feminine (see Hertel, 1938, 34n6). What better and more straightforward way to gain immortality than by consuming soma, the nectar of immortality? Indeed, it seems that originally Agni did not often get a share of the soma in the sacrifices (see Oldenberg, 1894, 104; Hillebrandt, 1980, 49; Oberlies, 1998, 241, 287). As stated by D. Feller: "[Agni] can become immortal only if he gets a share of the oblations. Then he will be able to transcend his mere existence as one particular fire, and live on eternally in all the fires, unlike his dead brothers who had no share, who were mere cart-horses, ploughing the sacrificial field without ever tasting its crops, and dying after fulfilling their function. Thus Agni is the first fire who manages to break the vicious circle and escape alive" (Feller, 2004, 73).

If my contention is true, and if the myth of Agni’s hiding first and foremost exemplifies how Agni became a god, then it would explain why the Mahābhārata systematically narrates the story of Agni’s hiding when it relates the birth of a new epic god like Skanda.

The Trifunctional Fire 

According to G. Dumézil’s trifunctional theory, or theory of functional tripartition (see e.g. Dumézil, 1952), most Indian gods fall into one of three categories. They can be related to:

1.

the Brahmanical domain of the juridico-religious (e.g. Varuṇa and Mitra);

2.

the Kṣatriya domain of physical strength and warfare (e.g. Indra); or

3.

the Vaiśya domain of agriculture, fertility, and beauty (e.g. the Aśvins).

Now, as has been remarked before (see Elizarenkova, 1968, 266), Agni does not fit so neatly into one class exclusively, for he exhibits features that can potentially make him belong to all three categories. 

Agni’s most striking and systematically stressed function is that relating to priesthood and his various sacrificial duties. Agni is the priest par excellence, and Ṛgveda 1.1 addresses Agni by the names of different priests officiating in the sacrifice:  

"I pray to Agni, the household priest [purohita] who is the god of the sacrifice, the one who chants [hotṛ] and invokes [ṛtvij] and brings most treasure" (ṚV. 1.1.1).

"Agni, the sacrificial ritual that you encompass on all sides – only that one goes to the gods" (ṚV.1.1.4).

"Agni, the priest [hotṛ] with the sharp sight of a poet, the true and most brilliant, the god will come with the gods" (ṚV. 1.1.5; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty).

In the Ṛgveda, as noted above, Agni is hardly depicted in an anthropomorphic form. This changes in later texts, where Agni, when personified, usually assumes the appearance of a Brahman. Thus, in the Mahābhārata section depicting the burning of the Khāṇḍava Forest, Agni, wishing to eat the whole forest, appears to Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa in the guise of a golden-hued, blazing Brahman and begs them to give him the forest for food and to see to it that none of its denizens escapes alive while he devours it (MBh. 1.214.29–32). This story highlights another trait that is typical of Agni throughout Indian literature – namely, his fierce, all-devouring appetite. Agni is an all-eater (sarvabhakṣa), which at times becomes problematic for the “mouth of the gods,” since the consumption of impure food makes him unfit for the task (see Feller, 2004, 89–92). His appearance as a Brahman here guarantees that the two Kṣatriyas will feel obliged to grant him his wish. At a later date, iconographic prescriptions systematically recommend that Agni be represented as a flaming red personage endowed with Brahmanical attributes, especially the sacred thread (see Bunce, vol. I, 2000, 16–18). 

Besides being a priest, Agni, from the Ṛgveda onward, also exhibits some prominent Kṣatriya-like qualities. Under his wild, all-devouring, and untamable aspect, the fire is naturally suited to keep at bay the night-roaming demons. He helps Indra perform his famous exploits, and he is frequently requested in the vedic hymns to burn the rākṣasas (see Oldenberg, 1898, 95; Keith, 1925, 158). Especially, the function of the southern sacrificial fire (dakṣiṇāgni) is to protect the sacrificial ground from the demons. Besides, being invoked as the purohita (the priest who helps the king win battles by means of his magical incantations), Agni seems designated for warlike duties (see Varenne, 1977–1978, 376). This fierce, demon-slaying aspect of the fire is also somewhat indirectly brought to the fore in the great epic: in the Mahābhārata Agni is the father of the new god Skanda, who is born to be the general of the gods’ army with the special mission to defeat the invincible asura Tāraka. Agni is also the father of Dhṛṣṭadyumna, who is born out of the sacrificial fire (MBh. 1.155), and subsequently becomes the general of the Pāṇḍavas’ army and kills the incarnate demons fighting on the Kauravas’ side. Thus, Agni’s descendants inherit the fire’s warlike, demon-slaying functions in the epic. 

Lastly, Agni, as the fire burning in every hearth, is often specially connected to the household and the family, which he is requested to protect. He is furthermore thought to bring riches and prosperity (see e.g. ṚV. 1.1.1 or 2.35.4). These traits make him third-functional. E.B. Findly (1981, 260–264) remarks that, as the domestic fire, Agni is frequently called Jātavedas. The epithet Jātavedas can be interpreted in several ways: “Who Knows the Creatures (lit. ‘What Has Been Born’),” “Who Has Innate Wisdom,” and “In Charge of the Creatures” (see Findly, 1981, 349–354). Agni “knows” the creatures not only because he resides in every hearth but also even more intimately because the fire was believed to reside inside every creature: as the digestive fire, on the one hand, and as the power of speech, on the other (see Knipe, 1975, 96; Coomaraswamy, 1977, 160; Doniger O’Flaherty, 1980, 145; Kuiper, 1983, 182). As such, the fire is invoked as a witness at weddings or at fire ordeals: residing inside beings, he can testify to their truthfulness. 

Sexual and Procreative Fire 

In his article entitled “Zur Gewinnung des Feuers,” S. Freud expresses the idea that fire must have appeared to the mind of “primitive man” as something akin to sexual passion, as “the symbol of the libido.” He writes the following: "The warmth radiated by the fire provokes the same sensations as the warmth provoked by a state of sexual excitement, and the flame evokes in its form and movements the active phallus" (Freud, 1950, 6; trans. by author). S. Freud’s article, it is true, does not deal with the Indian conceptions and representations of fire, and some of his remarks on the myth of Prometheus and the winning of fire by humankind ill apply to the Indian context. Nevertheless, his remarks on the sexual symbolism of fire are quite relevant as far as Agni is concerned, as we shall presently see. 

Even though the ancient Indians knew about the production of fire by means of stones, the favored means of producing fire was by rubbing against each other two sticks (araṇis). These are either called Agni’s mothers or his parents: the upper stick is his father, and the lower stick is his mother. The same sexual symbolism is also seen at work in the choice of wood used to make the churning sticks: sometimes, the upper, male, stick is fashioned of the masculineaśvattha tree (bot. Ficus religiosa), while the lower, female, stick is made of the feminine śamītree (bot. Mimosa suma). Elsewhere, the favored wood is that of an aśvatthaśamīgarbha – namely, an aśvattha tree that has grown parasitically on a śamī tree (see Bosch, 1994, 71, fig. 10). The male aśvattha growing embracing the female śamī is considered to be especially suitable to produce the fire. M. Bloomfield further remarks: "In the ritualistic texts, at the churning of the fire, the lower churning-stick is addressed with the words, 'Thou art Urvaçī'; the upper churning-stick with, 'Thou art Purūravas'; the fire that results is addressed with the words, 'Thou art Âyu' (Bloomfield, 1899, 181). The latter is, of course, the name of the son of the famous pair of mythical lovers – the heavenly nymph Urvaśī and King Purūravas – and one of the many names for fire. 

The sexual symbolism of the lighting of fire by friction is prominently reflected in a story in theMahābhārata relating the birth of Śuka (MBh. 12.311). Wishing to have an exceptional son, and having obtained a boon to that effect from Śiva himself, Vyāsa, the author of the Mahābhārata, took a stick and started to light a fire. At that moment, the heavenly nymph Ghṛṭācī (“Abounding in Ghee”) – ghee being the fire’s favorite and most nourishing offering – passed by. Inflamed with sudden passion, the sage spilled his seed on the churning stick but nevertheless went on churning it – with the result that instead of a fire kindling, his son Śuka was born of thearaṇi. As soon as he was born, Śuka’s effulgence was such that he was said to “shine like a smoke-less fire” (MBh. 12.311.11). There is hardly any need here to stress the resemblance between the churning stick and the penis, on the one hand, and between the resulting spark and the seed, on the other. Simultaneously, the female stick in which the seed is churned is also the womb in which the baby is born (MBh. 12.311.8–9). 

Considering the sexual symbolism prominently at work in the lighting of the fire, and the equivalence between the spark of fire and the seed of life, it is but natural that Agni himself came to be associated with procreation. In the Ṛgveda, Agni is often called a child and a calf; he is young, the youngest (yaviṣṭh[y]a), since he is born whenever he is kindled. He is also an embryo – the embryo of the waters. When he hides in the waters, he is enveloped in a thick embryonic membrane, like a fetus in its mother’s womb. As such, he represents the fiery life principle lying in the primordial waters (Bachelard, 1949, 85–86), his mothers, who bear him and suckle him. Many verses of the Ṛgveda 2.35, dedicated to Apāṃ Napāt, the offspring of the waters, beautifully illustrate this:  

"Some flow together, while others flow toward the sea, but the rivers fill the same hollow cavern. The pure waters surrounded this pure, radiant child of the waters" (ṚV. 2.35.3).

"The young women, the waters, flow around the young god, making him shine and gazing solemnly upon him. With his clear, strong flames he shines riches upon us, wearing his garment of butter, blazing without fuel in the waters" (ṚV. 2.35.4).

"The three women, goddesses, wish to give food to the god so that he will not weaken. He has stretched forth in the waters; he sucks the new milk of those who have given birth for the first time" (ṚV. 2.35.5).

"Clothed in lightning, the upright child of the waters has climbed into the lap of the waters as they lie down. The golden-hued young women flow around him, bearing with them his supreme energy" (2.35.9; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty).

But the same hymn also hints at the fact that Agni is not only the son of the waters but also their husband: "Being a bull, he engendered that embryo in the females; being a child, he sucks them, and they lick him" (ṚV. 2.35.13; trans. Doniger O’Flaherty).

The Mahābhārata principally retains the aspect of fire as a progenitor. The epic no longer shows Agni as a young god, a child, or an embryo but as a grown god, who in turn engenders a number of typically epic descendants – a rather natural evolution within the realm of mythical time. Interestingly, Agni in his generative role often figures in the epic stories along with certain rivers, a continuation of the vedic motif hinted at in Ṛgveda 2.35.13. This is for instance seen in Mahābhārata 3.208–212, which lists the genealogy of fires descending from Brahmā. The passage lists the rivers as the mothers of hearths, implying that the procreation of offspring requires the combination of fire and water: "The Five Rivers except the Indus, the Devikā, Sarasvatī, Ganges, Śatakumbhā, Sarayū, Gaṇḍakī, Carmaṇvatī, Mahī, Medhyā, Medhātithi, the three rivers Tāmrāvatī, Vetravatī, and Kauśikī, Tamasā, Narmadā, Godāvarī, Veṇṇā, Praveṇī, Bhīmā, and Medrathā, O Bhārata, the Bhāratī, Suprayogā, Kāverī, Murmurā, Kṛṣṇā, Kṛṣṇveṇṇā, Kapilā, and Śoṇā – these rivers are famed as the mothers of hearths" (MBh. 3.212.21–24; trans. Buitenen).

Another, very important, son of Agni is the “new” god Skanda, who gains prominence in theMahābhārata. In the epic, Agni is always involved in the paternity of Skanda (MBh. 3.213–221; 9.43–45; 13.83–84), either principally or in combination with the god Śiva. This has led to much speculation as to which god is the “original” father of Skanda. According to V.M. Bedekar (1975, 168), it is Rudra-Śiva; according to A. Holtzmann (1878, 20) or M. Mukhopadhyay (1985, 316), it is Agni. In any case, as R.N. Dandekar (1953, 98) remarks, Rudra in vedic literature is often identified with Agni. The myth of Skanda’s birth is extremely complicated and presents an extraordinary number of variants. What is quite clear is that the epic’s myth makers were intent on giving Skanda the greatest number of parents, so as to imbue him with a vast palette of different powers. This wish is only natural, for Skanda was born to defeat the extraordinarily powerful demon Tāraka. 

One of the most representative and indeed “classical” versions of Skanda’s generation and birth is found in Mahābhārata 13.83–84. This version again exemplifies the production of offspring by a mixture of fire and water, here personified as Agni and the river Gaṅgā. The story is as follows: the newly wedded Śiva and Pārvatī were making love with such passion that the gods became terrified, thinking how powerful and potentially destructive their offspring would be. They begged Śiva to refrain from begetting a child. Pārvatī was furious and cursed all the gods: they would not be able to have any children either. Only Agni escaped the curse, for he was not there at that time (MBh. 13.83.51; 13.84.8) – he had disappeared (naṣṭa; MBh. 13.84.13). Later, a little of Śiva’s sperm fell into the fire, where it grew. Meanwhile, the asura Tāraka was getting powerful and threatened the gods. Brahmā told the gods that Agni would beget on the Gaṅgā a powerful son, capable of destroying the demon. The gods looked for the hidden Agni and finally found him after some effort. Agni agreed to perform the task requested of him. He went to the Gaṅgā, became mixed with her, and produced a fetus (MBh. 13.84.52–53). The river stoically bore the burning fetus for a while but finally, overcome with pain, had to expulse the golden child on top of Mount Meru. Thus Skanda was born. 

The story as we find it here is evidently a conflagration of two versions of the myth of Skanda’s birth: one in which his parents are Śiva and Pārvatī (Pārvatī’s motherhood being at best nominal) and another in which his parents are Agni and the Gaṅgā (see Feller, 2004, 117). What is interesting here for our purpose is that we find again the motif of the fiery seed or embryo in the waters. In the Veda, Agni himself was the embryo of the waters. Here, the grown Agni, impregnated with Śiva’s seed, in turn produces an embryo in the waters of the Gaṅgā. And once more, contrary to the evidence provided by everyday experience, the waters do not extinguish the fiery seed, but the seed burns the waters that carry it – however painfully – to fruition. 

Gems, Gold, Seed, and Soma: The Multiforms of Fire 

The myths relating to Agni often express the idea that gold and gemstones, on the one hand, and seed and soma, on the other, are in a certain sense coterminous with fire or – to put it differently – are multiforms of fire. This identity of substance is variously explained in the epic. The close connection between fire and gold is in some instances mythologically expressed by making gold Agni’s offspring. Mahābhārata 13.83–84, which narrates the story of Skanda’s birth that I referred to above, is contained in the Dānadharmaparvan, which enumerates the merits acquired by giving away various types of gifts. Bhīṣma tells Yudhiṣṭhira that once upon a time Rāma Jāmadagnya (a Brahman notorious for slaughtering all the Kṣatriyas of the world 21 times), having performed a horse sacrifice, inquired of the assembled gods and sages which was the most purifying gift. The sage Vasiṣṭha replied that the best gift was gold, for gold is a form of Agni, and Agni is all the gods: agnir hi devatāḥsarvāḥ (compare with AitBr. 2.3). Therefore, who gifts gold gifts all the gods (MBh. 13.83.36–37). He then went on to narrate the story of Skanda’s birth. Where Skanda was born, everything turned into gold, and this was the origin of gold, which is Agni’s offspring (apatya; MBh. 13.84.78), like Skanda himself. The Mahābhārata does not personify gold, but this happens in later puranic versions of the same story, in which Agni’s gold progeny is personified as twins, named Suvarṇa and Suvarṇā (see Doniger O’Flaherty, 1973, 96). 

Elsewhere, not only gold but also metals and gems in general are explained as originating from the fire. Thus the Mahābhārata tells us that when Agni entered the earth to hide from the seer Atharvan, he produced various metals and precious stones out of the different parts of his dispersed body: "Having relinquished his body he entered into earth, and as he touched the earth he created the ores one by one. From his mouth sulfur and gold, from his bones the deodar pines, from his phlegm quartz, from his bile emeralds, from his liver black iron: with the latter three glitter the creatures. His nails became mica, his arteries coral: thus, O king, the various elements arose from his body" (MBh. 3.212.12–14; trans. Buitenen).

The story of the churning of the ocean, the Kṣīrodamathana, evidences the same equivalence at work among gold, fire, and the elixir of immortality, for it reveals that the elixir of immortality was produced from a mixture of resin, herbs, and gold, which were first melted by the fire, then were flushed out by the rain, and, conglomerating in the ocean, produced the amṛta, the elixir of immortality: "While Mount Mandara was being driven around large trees crashed into one another and tumbled down from the peak with their nestling birds. The friction of the trees started fire after fire, covering the mountain with flames like a black monsoon cloud with lightning streaks. Then Indra the Lord of the Immortals flooded the fire that was raging everywhere with rain pouring from the clouds. The many juices of herbs and the manifold resins of the trees flowed into the water of the ocean. And with the milk of these juices that had the power of the Elixir, and with the exudation of the molten gold, the Gods attained immortality" (MBh. 1.16.21–26; trans. Buitenen).

In mythical thought, soma and seed are often presented as each other’s multiforms (see Doniger O’Flaherty, 1973, 277–279). This idea seems to go back to Indo-Iranian times, when somabecame associated with fertility (see Oberlies, 1999, 42–44). The resemblance between Agni’s fiery semen and soma is likewise a prominent theme in another version of Skanda’s birth found in Mahābhārata 3.213–221. This version of the story is perhaps the one in which Agni’s paternity is the most prominent, Śiva (and Umā)’s parenthood being only appended as an afterthought (MBh. 3.220.9–11). Agni hopelessly fell in love with the wives of the seven divine seers (ṛṣis). Unable to satiate his lust, he pined away and lost all will to live. Now, Svāhā had been in love with Agni for a long time. She seized this opportunity and successively assumed the appearance of six of the seers’ wives. After sleeping with Agni, she took his seed in her hand. Showing some concern for the reputation of the seers’ wives, she thought,  

"If people see this body in the forest, they will tell of the brahmin wives’ faithlessness with Fire. Therefore, in order to prevent this, I’ll become a Garuḍa bird [lit. a garuḍī or female garuḍa], so I’ll escape easily from the woods. She became a fair-winged bird and left the vast forest, and she saw Mount Śveta, all covered with reed stalks. The mountain was guarded by wondrous poison-eyed and seven-headed serpents, and peopled by Rākṣasas, Piśācas, and terrifying bands of ghosts, and by Rākṣasīs and countless game and fowl. She went to the inaccessible mountain ridge and hurriedly threw the seed into a golden basin. She assumed the guises of the other wives of the great-spirited seven seers, and then made love to Fire. But she was not able to assume the shape of Arundhatī, because of the power of her austerities and her faithfulness to her husband. Six times did she cast down the seed of Fire, O best of the Kurus, did the loving Svāhā, into the mountain basin, on the first day of the lunation. The spilled seed, gathered together in heat, engendered a son who was worshiped by the seers; and the spilled seed became Skanda" (MBh. 3.214.8–17; trans. Buitenen).

Svāhā’s precaution proved in vain, because subsequently the seers’ wives were all divorced by their husbands, except precisely the faithful Arundhatī. What is of importance here is that this passage presents itself as a striking inversion of the story of the soma theft as found inMahābhārata 1.14–30. There, Garuḍa carries off the soma from heaven – where it is severely guarded by poisonous snakes – to earth, holding it in his claw (lit. in his foot; MBh. 1.29). Here, Svāhā, assuming the form of a female garuḍa, carries the soma-like seed in her hand from the earth to the mountaintop, to keep it in a golden vessel, where it is similarly guarded by poisonous snakes and demons. Quite evidently, Agni’s fiery seed becomes equivalent withsoma. 

Concluding Remarks 

Agni is an extraordinarily protean divinity. His symbolism is variegated and manifold: he is an animal, both wild and tame; he is the chariot and the mouth of the gods in the sacrifice; he is functionally linked with each of the three highest social classes (varṇas), even though over time Agni prominently retained associations with the priestly function, becoming a sort of prototypical Brahman; he is the power of speech and the all devourer; he is associated with destruction and generation: as the spark of life, in conjunction with the waters, he allows the process of procreation; his multiforms are gems, gold, seed, and the elixir of immortality. Over time, as the practice of sacrifice waned, Agni remained essentially connected with procreation, siring “new” gods in epic and puranic texts. From an ever young god in vedic texts, Agni became a father figure in later literary strata, imbuing his descendants both with his vedic stamp of legitimacy and with his warlike powers.