THE TEXT · ATHARVAVEDA
Hymns discussed in this article
These verses give the wording and sequence examined in the article below.
ATHARVAVEDA · BOOK III IN FOCUS
To command a woman's love
Let the up-thruster thrust (tud) thee up; do not abide (dhṛ) in thine own lair; the arrow of love (kā́ma) that is terrible, therewith I pierce thee in the heart.
The arrow feathered with longing (ādhī́), tipped with love, necked with resolve (? saṁkalpá-)—having made that well-straightened, let love pierce thee in the heart.
The well-straightened arrow of love which dries the spleen, forward-winged, consuming (vyòṣa)—therewith I pierce thee in the heart.
Pierced with consuming pain (çúc), dry-mouthed, do thou come creeping to me, gentle, with fury allayed, entirely [mine], pleasant-spoken, submissive.
Read the remaining 2 verses of III.25
I goad thee hither with a goad (ā́janī), away from mother, likewise from father, that thou mayest be in my power (krátu), mayest come unto my intent.
Do ye, O Mitra-and-Varuṇa, cast out the intents from her heart; then, making her powerless, make her [to be] in my own control.
Whitney–Lanman translation as printed (1905) · Read III.25 at Wikisource ↗
ATHARVAVEDA · BOOK VI IN FOCUS
To win a woman
As this draft-horse (vāhá), O Açvins, comes together and moves together [with his mate], so unto me let thy mind come together and move together.
I drag along (ā-khid) thy mind, as a king-horse a side-mare (?); like grass cut by a whirlwind, let thy mind twine itself to me.
Of ointment, of madúgha, of kúṣṭha, and of nard, by the hands of Bhaga, I bring up quick a means of subjection.
Whitney–Lanman translation as printed (1905) · Read VI.102 at Wikisource ↗
ATHARVAVEDA · BOOK VI IN FOCUS
To win a woman's love
As the creeper (líbujā) has completely embraced the tree, so do thou embrace me—that thou mayest be one loving me, that thou mayest be one not going away from me.
As the eagle, flying forth, beats down his wings upon the earth, so do I beat down thy mind—that thou etc. etc.
As the sun goeth at once about heaven-and-earth here, so do I go about thy mind—that thou etc. etc.
Whitney–Lanman translation as printed (1905) · Read VI.8 at Wikisource ↗
What III.25 means by coming near
III.25 is the historical anchor for this modern benefit. The speaker directs a love arrow at a woman's heart, repeats the image with an elaborately constructed arrow, and then imagines bodily distress. Only after those verses does the addressed woman come toward him. Verse 5 uses a goad and speaks of drawing her away from father and mother. Verse 6 asks the gods to remove her intentions. Thus proximity is the end of a campaign against another will, not spontaneous attraction to a welcoming presence. Any reading that begins with the arrival and skips the preceding pain reverses the hymn's actual sequence.
A paired horse changes the metaphor
VI.102.1 compares coming together in mind to a draft horse moving with its mate. The image can initially sound like coordinated motion. Yet its next verse says the speaker drags the other's mind like a horse pulling another and compares the mind to grass twisted by a whirlwind. This sudden shift is revealing: moving together can be recast as one person driving the movement. The third verse invokes substances and Bhaga's help for subjection, though Whitney notes obscurities in its construction. The hymn therefore offers evidence of persuasive and forceful imagery mingled in one short unit, not a straightforward emblem of mutual chemistry.
A vine's embrace is also repeated pressure
VI.8 begins with a creeper clasping a tree and asks the beloved to embrace the speaker. But the following verses compare the action to an eagle's wings beating down and the sun going around heaven and earth; each returns to the wish that she love him and not leave. The natural images increase the reach of the speaker's claim. They are poetic comparisons, not observations that attraction is inevitable. Set beside III.25 and VI.102, the vine shows how easy it is to isolate a soft first image while missing the poem's sustained demand for a particular outcome from another person.
Present-day presence is a new subject
“Make a target person feel drawn to my presence” and The Gentle Pull are original contemporary formulations. None of these hymns mentions a person's aura in a modern room, a consensual attraction practice, or a measurable response to one person's presence. The benefit's wording invites a useful question: is the hoped-for draw an offer of company that someone may decline, or an attempt to override a choice? Ancient texts present both longing and stark control; they do not settle that present-day question for us. Their images can be studied without claiming that the attached modern working reproduces a Vedic rite or guarantees another person's feeling.
WORKED READING
Trace the shift inside VI.102
Read verse 1's horse pair before verse 2's speaker who drags a mind. The first comparison offers synchronized movement; the second gives one agent the force to redirect another. Then read III.25.5, where a goad presses a woman toward the speaker and away from family. In all three lines movement matters, but who initiates it changes. The comparison makes the modern phrase “feel drawn” less innocent as a description of these historical charms. It is the contemporary reader, rather than the ancient speaker, who can distinguish an inviting presence from compelled approach.