A section from the journey

Soma, the Bright Draught

Soma is two things at once. It is a drink, pressed from a plant and offered in the fire-rite. And it is a god, the spirit of that drink. It filled the singers with joy and strength. One whole book of the Rigveda, its ninth, is given to Soma alone. What plant it came from, we no longer know for sure.

After the high, calm order of rta, let us meet something warmer. It is a thing you can hold in a cup. The rishis called it — and it was both a drink and a god.

First, the drink. The priests took a certain plant and pressed it between stones. The bright juice ran out. They strained it through wool, mixed it with milk or water, and offered it into the fire for the gods. And they drank a little themselves.

When they drank it, they felt lifted. Bright and glad. Strong and wide awake, as if the mind had opened. The hymns sing of a great joy rising in the chest. This was not an ordinary drink. It seemed to carry something of the gods inside it.

And so the rishis felt a god lived within it. The drink and the god share one name: Soma. When they pressed the stalks, they felt they were not just making a juice. They were waking a god, and letting him flow.

The has ten books. One whole book, the ninth, belongs to Soma alone. Hymn after hymn watches the bright stream run through the strainer and pour into the bowls. They call Soma a king, a healer, a friend of the gods. No other single thing is given so much song.

Now we must be honest about something. What plant did the first Soma come from? The truth is, no one today is sure. The drink was real, and dear, and central to the rite. But over the long ages the exact plant was forgotten. Scholars have many guesses and no firm answer.

So we will not pretend to know what we do not. We can tell you what Soma did, and what it meant to the singers: joy, strength, and a sense of nearness to the gods. That much the hymns make clear. The plant itself stays a quiet mystery, and that is all right.

The rishis prized a moment of bright, lifted gladness, and they treated it as sacred. Think of a time you felt suddenly clear and full of joy. What helps you reach that kind of brightness — and how might you treat it as something precious?