When Myth Meets Physics: The Science Within Samudra Manthan

Every search for knowledge begins with curiosity. Human beings have always tried to make sense

of the world whether through the language of science or the symbolism of mythology. Both are

attempts to explain the same mysteries: 

Why does the world work the way it does? How are hidden forces shaping what we see? Mythological stories often appear magical, while physics seems rooted in equations and measurable facts. Yet, when we look closely, the boundary between them blurs. It was during one of my classroom sessions on physics that I experienced this connection firsthand. On the board, I wrote a simple formula:

Pressure=Force/Area

I explained, “Pressure is not just about how much force you apply, it’s about how that force is

distributed. A sharp knife cuts easily because the force is concentrated along a very fine edge. But

if the same force is spread over a larger surface, it feels much lighter.” To illustrate, I said, “Standing on a single nail would hurt, but lying on a bed of nails spreads your weight, reducing the pressure.” At that moment, a curious student raised his hand. “Ma’am,” he asked, “Is that why Bhishma, in the Mahabharata, could rest on a bed of arrows? I smiled, realizing what a thoughtful connection he had made. “Yes,” I replied. “Exactly. When many arrows supported Bhishma, his weight spread across a larger area, lowering the pressure at each point. That’s why he wasn’t fatally pierced.” I left class with a lingering thought, “Is mythology a story of the principles of nature? Can we somehow relate mythology and physics to create a culturally grounded understanding of physics?”

Mythology and Science Connection

Mythological tales from our childhood are often brushed aside as mere stories. Science takes the place of fairytales in making sense of the world. But what if these myths hold links to advanced science, that were obscured then, but obvious now? By revisiting these ancient narratives, we might discover new insights that bridge traditional wisdom with modern scientific ideas. The Vedas and the Puranas, among the oldest surviving works of human thought, contain extraordinary insights about the universe and its functioning. One of the most profound examples is found in the Vishnu Purana the story of Samudra Manthan, the churning of the cosmic ocean.

The Story of Samudra Manthan

In Hindu philosophy, Samudra Manthan the great churning of the ocean is a symbolic tale. After Indra offended Sage Durvasa, the devas (demigods) were cursed to lose their strength, allowing the asuras, led by King Bali, to conquer the three worlds. Seeking help, the devas turned to Lord Vishnu (protector) who advised them to churn the cosmic ocean to obtain Amrit, the nectar of immortality.

To accomplish this, the devas and asuras formed a temporary alliance. Mount Mandara served as the churning rod, and Vasuki, the serpent king, as the rope. When the mountain began to sink, Vishnu incarnated as Kurma, the giant turtle, supporting it on his back. The churning then continued, revealing both treasures and perils from the ocean’s depths.

The Physics Within the Churning

From a physics perspective, churning represents force, torque, and energy transfer. Vasuki, coiled around Mount Mandara, acted as the rope, while the devas and asuras pulled alternately, producing rotational motion an application of torque:

τ=r×F

Where r is the distance from the axis of rotation (the radius of Mandara), and F is the applied force. Vasuki acted as a lever around the mountain’s axis, each pull transferring force into the system to keep the motion

going. As Mandara rotated, two forces came into play. One was the centripetal force, pulling inward to keep the motion stable. The other was the centrifugal effect, pushing outward. In physics, centripetal force is given by:

where m is mass, v is velocity, and r is the radius of rotation. By pulling Vasuki, the devas and asuras were essentially generating this force keeping Mandara spinning like a giant axis. Churning also illustrates energy transformation. Each pull on, Vasuki stored potential energy, which then transformed into kinetic energy of rotation. This is the same principle seen when stretching a bow:

The tension in Vasuki transformed into the spinning motion of Mandara, illustrating the law of conservation of energy. As Vasuki rubbed against Mount Mandara, friction generated heat:

Q=F×d

Where Q is the heat produced, F is the frictional force, and d is the distance moved. The longer the churning continued, the more energy was released, heating the ocean and symbolically producing both poison (Halahala) and nectar (Amrit). The churning also depended on balance. The devas and asuras had to pull with equal strength to keep Vasuki steady. If one side pulled harder, the serpent would slip, disrupting the process. This perfectly reflects Newton’s Third Law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

The Deeper Lesson

The essence of Samudra Manthan lies in balance. The devas and asuras, though enemies, had to pull with equal strength to sustain the churning. Without balance, the process would have collapsed. Science works the same way- every discovery carries both nectar and poison. Nuclear energy provides electricity but comes with risks of radiation. Plastic brings convenience but causes pollution. For researchers, this duality is inevitable: every breakthrough has its byproducts. The more I think about it, the more I believe they are not separate. Mythology and physics are simply two languages telling the same universal truth. The classroom example of Bhishma resting on arrows was not just a clever question; it was a reminder that learning becomes powerful when we connect ideas across boundaries. When a myth explains pressure, or when a cosmic tale mirrors Newton’s laws, knowledge comes alive. Perhaps mythology and physics are two paths converging toward the same wisdom: that the truths of the universe are revealed only to those who dare to stir it deeply, whether through the pull of Vasuki in a cosmic ocean or the spark of a question in a classroom.

By:

Padmini K. U

Research Associate, Prayoga