The Vedic pantheon preserved in the historic hymns of the Rig Veda is very different from the famous trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva that dominates later Hinduism. Many influential deities that once played important roles in early Vedic worship gradually passed into oblivion, their importance diminished by the mythic afterlife. Those forgotten deities including Pushan, the mother or father of tourists and animals; Armati, the goddess of devotion and piety; Ribhu, the divine artisan; and Vayu, the wind god who preceded Indra in importance, reflect the non-secular and practical concerns of early Indo-Aryan society. Their roles reveal a worldview in which natural forces, cosmic order (Rita), and daily sustenance are deeply intertwined with the divine.
For example, Brihaspati, initially the personification of sacred speech and prayer, later transformed into a planetary deity (Brihaspati), while Savitri, the gold-robed solar deity of the Gayatri mantra, was absorbed into the personification of the sun. Even Daksha, once an impartial author, became subordinate to Shiva in later myths. The gradual marginalization of these deities reflects the evolution of the Vedic conception of the divine—from a polytheistic, ritualistic afterlife to the philosophical monism of the Upanishads and the communal worship of classical Hinduism. But their legacy persists in subtle ways: in surviving rituals, within the symbolism of later deities, and within the cultural memory of long-abandoned practices.
One of the most fascinating forgotten deities is Pushan, the nurturer and protector. In the Rig Veda, he is invoked as the mother or father of tourists, shepherds and livestock, ensuring safe passage and abundant pastures. His imagery—driving a chariot drawn by goats, holding a golden goad—reflects his connection to the pastoral lifestyle. Not like the warrior god Indra or the fire god Agni, Pushan’s sphere became the mundane but significantly international one of sustenance and mobility.
Their decline parallels the shift from nomadic pastoralism to settled agriculture, in which their abilities were absorbed by Vishnu and Shiva. In addition, Armati, a goddess not often mentioned nowadays, was a symbol of devotion (Armati) and the fertility of the earth. Her hymns depict her as a mediator between people and gods, a role later assumed by Lakshmi and Sarasvati.
The Ribhus, a group of semi-divine artisans, were celebrated for their skill in crafting divine chariots and rejuvenating old deities a metaphor for cyclical renewal. Their memories highlight the Vedic admiration for craftsmanship and innovation, values that declined as priestly ritualism became dominant. The case of Vayu illustrates how religious priorities changed. In the earliest Vedic texts, Vayu (wind) and Varuna (cosmic order) were perfect, with Indra being a minor figure at first.
Over the years, Indra’s upward rise as king of the gods eclipsed that of Vayu, reducing him in later traditions to a minor deity concerned with breath (prana). Similarly, Savitri, the sun god of the Gayatri mantra, was indistinguishable from the sun – he represented the life-giving, transformative lightning of sunlight at sunrise and dusk. His absorption into the sun’s identity reflects the streamlining of sun worship. Even Daksha, once an authoritative deity in his own right, became a victim of sectarian conflicts: Puranic narratives depict him as a stubborn patriarch who insults Shiva, leading to his head being cut off and replaced with a goat’s head – a symbolic deification.
The disappearance of these deities was not accidental, but linked to wider cultural shifts. The Vedic emphasis on yajna (sacrifice) and herbal powers gave way to mythological storytelling (bhakti) and syncretic philosophy (Vedanta). Some deities survived as minor characters or merged with more famous gods: the divine architect Tvashtra became Visvakarma; the sunrise goddess Usha was subsumed by Parvati. But their hymns reflect a lost world in which every element of life from the morning dew to the artisan’s workshop—became sacred.
The rediscovery of these deities offers a glimpse into the religious creativity of historical India, where divinity was not yet confined to temples but breathed the air, shone in the sunlight and spoke inside the flames of sacrificial fires. Their memory reminds us that the evolution of Hinduism involved both maintenance and forgetting—a complex fabric where some threads were woven into new styles while others were worn away into silence.