Listen, O wise one, to this ancient tale as it unfolded among the gods, sages, and noble families. Though I too possess the power to curse, I have always honored Brahmins and hold them in reverence. Yet, O Brahmana, I will reveal to you what I know—attend closely to my words. Through the discipline of yoga, I manifest in countless forms. I dwell within the sacred agnihotra fire, in every sacrifice, and in all ceremonies and rites. Whenever, as prescribed by the Vedas, an offering is poured into me, it is truly accepted by the gods and ancestors alike. The waters themselves serve as hosts for both gods and ancestors, and in the Darsha and Purnamasa rites, offerings are made to both at once. Thus, at sacred times, the gods and ancestors are honored together and also separately, their unity and distinction revealed in these rituals. Whatever is offered into me, both gods and ancestors partake of it, for I am regarded as the mouth of both. On the new moon, the ancestors receive their share; on the full moon, the gods are honored—all through my mouth, as they consume the offerings. But how, you may wonder, can I serve as their mouth when I am all-consuming? In the agnihotra and other rites performed by the twice-born, if the sacred utterances—‘Om,’ ‘Vashat,’ ‘Svaha,’ and ‘Swadha’—are missing, and if there is no fire, all creatures are plunged into distress. At such a time, the sages, troubled by the absence of Agni and the disruption of sacred rites, approached the gods and spoke in concern: “Without Agni, the order of the three worlds is disturbed. Please arrange what must be done so that the natural order of time and ritual is not broken.” The sages and gods then sought out Brahma, the creator, and told him of Agni’s curse and the resulting cessation of sacrifices. “O illustrious one,” they said, “Agni was cursed by Bhrigu for another reason. How can he, the mouth of the gods, once again partake of the foremost share of the offerings?” Hearing their plea, Brahma summoned Agni to his presence. He addressed Agni with gentle, eternal words, words that foster creation: “You are the maker and the end of all these worlds. You uphold the three worlds and are the initiator of all rites. Therefore, O Lord of the worlds, act now so that the sacred rites may continue unbroken. Why are you confused, O Fire, though you are their Lord? You are ever pure and the refuge of all beings. “You will not, with your whole being, become the devourer of all. The flames you emit below consume everything, but your true form as the devourer of flesh will only purify, just as all that is touched by the rays of the sun is considered pure. In the same way, whatever is burned by your flame becomes pure, for you are the supreme radiance, arisen from your own power. By your radiance, fulfill the sage’s curse, O mighty one, and accept in your mouth the shares offered to the gods and to yourself.” Hearing these words, Agni bowed to the Grandfather Brahma and said, “So be it.” He returned to fulfill the command of the Supreme Lord. The divine sages, delighted, departed as they had come, and the seers resumed all their rites as before. The gods in heaven rejoiced, as did all beings, and Agni, freed from his sin, attained supreme satisfaction. Thus, in ancient times, blessed Agni received a curse from Bhrigu. This was the sequence of events: the laughter of Hati, the curse of Agni, the destruction of Puloman, and the birth of Cyavana. Now, O Brahman, hear of Cyavana, the illustrious descendant of Bhrigu. Cyavana, by Sukanya, begot a radiant son named Pramati. Pramati, by the celestial nymph Ghritachi, fathered Ruru. Ruru, by Pramadvara, begot a son named Sunaka. Sunaka, of great spirit and joy to the Bhargavas, practiced severe austerities and gained lasting fame. O Brahman, I will now recount in detail the splendid story of Ruru—listen attentively. There once lived a great sage, renowned for his austerity and wisdom, named Sthulakesha. He was devoted to the welfare of all beings. At that time, the king of the Gandharvas, Vishvavasu, was born from the Apsaras Menaka. When the time came, Menaka left her child by the riverbank near Sthulakesha’s hermitage and departed, showing neither mercy nor shame. A great sage noticed the abandoned girl, radiant with beauty like an immortal. Sthulakesha, filled with compassion, saw the child alone and bereft of kin in the wilderness. He took her into his care and raised her in his auspicious hermitage, performing all the proper birth and other rites as prescribed. The girl grew to surpass all women in beauty, form, and virtue, and the sage named her Pramadvara. One day, Ruru, righteous and noble of soul, saw Pramadvara in the hermitage and was overcome by love for her. He informed his father, Pramati, of his feelings, and together with his friends, Pramati approached the renowned Sthulakesha to formally ask for Pramadvara’s hand on behalf of his son. Thus begins the story of Ruru and Pramadvara, filled with splendor and virtue, in the lineage of the great Bhrigu.