Skandapurana 2.9.8

Sāvarṇi said:

“When the sacrifice involving violence was abandoned by the gods forbidden by the great seers,

how did such sacrifices begin again everywhere

among gods, seers, and kings, both ancient and modern? // 1

How did the eternal, pure dharma fall into perversion?

On this point, O Six-faced One, a great doubt has arisen in me today.

You know the reality of all treatises; you ought to dispel it."

Skanda said:

"Time is more powerful than the powerful; by it the intellects are split

of those possessed of relish for desire and anger, greed, and pride, O sage.

Through transgression against the great who speak what is true and beneficial,

and under the sway of anger and pride, the good intellect of men is utterly destroyed.

Even the wise then proceed to do what should not be done;

they regret it and wander repeatedly in the cycle of existence.

Those who are free from desire and the rest, devotees of Viṣṇu whose latent impressions have dwindled—

Time is never able to confound their intellects.

A man who does not resort to true dharma at any time

is never liberated from the cycle of existence: this is my true word.

Now, O best of brahmins, I shall tell you of the origin of violent sacrifices and the like,

as I previously heard it from the mouth of my father.

In this regard they cite this ancient account,

in which the greatness of Nārāyaṇa and Lakṣmī is glorified.

Because of the fault of transgressing against those great sages,

the good intellect of Indra the all-conqueror was destroyed, O sage.

Durvāsas, an ascetic sage who was a portion of Śaṃkara,

wandering at will through the worlds, once went to the river Puṣpabhadrā.

There he saw the wife of the vidyādhara Sumati,

surrounded by companions, coming from heaven to play in the water.

She was holding in her right hand a highly fragrant garland named Madakalā,

woven from golden lotuses of the heavenly Gaṅgā.

Seeing her, the sage approached her

and, like an intoxicated man, begged for that garland held by the vidyādharī.

She too bowed to him at once, knowing his greatness,

and placed that garland around his neck with supreme respect.

Then the sage, pleased at heart, singing as he went like an intoxicated man,

saw the lord of the gods coming on the road to that great river.

His victory was being sung in sweet tones accompanied by rhythm

by apsarases and gandharvas, as he rode upon the lord of elephants.

He was delighted, absorbed in the joy of listening to Rambhā's sweet music,

his gaze fixed on her lotus-face, adorned with umbrella and chowries.

Seeing that Indra did not notice him, the son of Atri

laughed like an intoxicated man and threw the garland from his own neck onto him.

Because Indra had already been possessed by unrighteous creation,

he, overcome by desire, placed it upon the two frontal globes of his elephant.

Its mind drawn by its fragrance, the king of elephants dragged it with its trunk;

it fell to the ground from its trunk, and the elephant, moving forward,

trampled it underfoot before the eyes of that great seer, a treasure-house of austerity.

Then Durvāsas, enraged, his eyes red like the fire of universal destruction,

said to Indra: 'O drunkard, wicked soul, you are arrogant, lustful for pleasure!

You do not welcome with joy the garland given by me, an abode of Śrī!

O fool, drunk with pride, you do not even make an obeisance!

Nor do you look upon me, the sole chastiser of intoxicated ones like you!

Blinded by obtaining kingship over the three worlds, I shall now discipline you properly!

Through whose favor you obtained the happiness of kingship over the three worlds,

may that very Śrī abandon you along with the three worlds and vanish into the ocean!'

Hearing that word which was like a thunderbolt, at that very moment

Hari, stripped of his pride, leaped down from the elephant and fell at his feet.

Trembling, bowing down to him again and again, he pleaded:

'O compassionate one, you ought to show favor to me, your servant.'

He then said to him: 'O Śakra, I am certainly not the sage Gautama!

Know me to be Durvāsas, whose entire essence is impatience!

Those other sages are corrupted; they are your followers.

But I, free from desire, do not count worms like you at all!'

From the blazing mass of matted hair and his gaze crooked with knitted brows,

Or who in the universe that commits sinful deeds would not fear me?"

Thus ends the eighth chapter, titled 'The Curse on the Lord of the Gods,' in the Māhātmya of the Holy Vāsudeva, in the second section, the Vaiṣṇavakhaṇḍa, of the glorious Skanda Mahāpurāṇa consisting of eighty-one thousand verses.