Kamadhenu on Indra

The gods didn't care for the little people. All they cared about was the offerings and the oblations. They were greedy, needy and selfish they wanted to hoard all the power and wealth to themselves while people died on Earth like animals. They talked about the cycle of death and birth and talked big on deserving better things in the following lives, but never lived by it -- they didn't want to give up anything they had on this life. It frustrated Kamadhenu. She was a hardworking demi-goddess, her immortality a pure chance, she wanted all beings to be treated equally, with respect consideration and love. Indra's reign would not allow for that.

Indra was a story in himself. He was a selfish self-centered warrior who had done great things in distant past and lived off of the glory of that. He wasn't as good of a warrior as he used to be, he wasn't a better ruler than any other individual member of his court either -- on the contrary, there had been hushed conversations in the alleys and corners of Swarga about how much better Chandradev was as a ruler how satisfied the residents of his realm were and perhaps he should be allowed to take over from Indra. They were fantasies everyone knew that -- Indra's grip on the throne was perhaps his only defining character, it was said that he would sell out on everything and everyone as long as he got to hold on to the throne. Kamadhenu had heard these but she didn't dare talk of them aloud. She was a nobody in Swarga, an out-of-place comma in a dictionary of a trillion trillion words. Indra was what they had and would always have.

Indra wasn't eternal. He hadn't been always. There had been a time before Indra, they said. The story of how Indra got to the throne was well-known, just as the stories of how he was challenged and beat his challengers every time. The demonic races had given up invading entirely in recent ages. What very few talked about were those times he had gotten back the throne only by pleading -- nayy, begging -- to the holy quaternity. Rudra could still, on any given day, ride in with his posse of warriors and sit on the shining snake throne and Indra wouldn't be able to so much as lift a finger. Everyone knew that. And Indra still like to swing around with the gaudy swagger he had. Kamadhenu did not care for his swagger. She was looking for a creative ruler, a ruler who actively looked out for the welfare of his subjects, not a reactionary one who would respond only after the complaints got overwhelmingly intolerably loud.

A political change would be welcome, even if it meant instability in the short term.