In ancient times, a great confusion befell the three worlds. The sacred fire, Agni, was absent, and the rites that maintained cosmic order were disrupted. Without Agni, the mouth of the gods, rituals ceased, and the natural flow of time threatened to unravel. The sages and gods, deeply concerned, approached the creator Brahma and informed him of Agni’s curse and the interruption of sacrificial rites. They pleaded, “Agni was cursed by the sage Bhrigu for another reason. How can he, who is the mouth of the gods, once again partake of the foremost share in sacrifices?” Hearing their words, Brahma, the creator of all, summoned Agni to his presence. Brahma spoke to Agni with gentle, eternal words, full of creative power: “You are the maker and the end of all these worlds. You uphold the three worlds and initiate all rites. Therefore, O Lord of the worlds, act now, lest the rites be interrupted and cosmic order broken. Why are you confused, O Fire, though you are the Lord? You are always pure and the refuge of all beings.” Brahma assured Agni, “You will not, with your whole body, become the devourer of all. The flames you emit in your lower breath consume everything, O flaming one. Your form as the devourer of flesh will purify all, just as everything touched by the rays of the sun is made pure. In the same way, all that is burned by your flame becomes pure. You, O Agni, are the supreme radiance, arisen from your own power. By your own brilliance, fulfill the sage’s curse, O mighty one, and accept in your mouth the share offered to the gods and to yourself.” Agni replied to Brahma, “So be it,” and went forth to carry out the command of the supreme Lord. The divine sages, delighted, departed as they had come, and the seers resumed all the rites as before. The gods in heaven rejoiced, as did all worldly beings, and Agni, freed from sin, attained supreme satisfaction. Thus, in ancient times, Agni received the curse from Bhrigu. This event occurred long ago—the laughter of Hati, the curse of Agni, the destruction of Puloman, and the birth of Cyavana. Now, Cyavana, the descendant of Bhrigu, begot a son by Sukanya, the radiant and great-souled Pramati. Pramati, in turn, begot a son named Ruru by the celestial nymph Ghritachi. Ruru begot Sunaka by Pramadvara. Sunaka, of great spirit and the joy of all the Bhargavas, was born and stood firm in severe austerity, gaining lasting fame. O Brahman, let me now tell you in detail the entire story of Ruru, full of splendor. Listen to it completely. There was once a great sage, endowed with austerity and knowledge, named Sthulakesha, who was devoted to the welfare of all beings. At that time, the king of the Gandharvas, Vishvavasu, was born from Menaka, the Apsaras. At the proper time, Menaka released her child, O descendant of Bhrigu, toward the hermitage of Sthulakesha. Abandoning the embryo on the riverbank, Menaka departed, merciless and shameless. A great sage saw the girl, shining with beauty like one born of the immortals, lying abandoned on the riverbank. Sthulakesha, radiant and compassionate, saw the girl alone in the wilderness, bereft of kin. The best of sages, filled with compassion, took her in and raised her. She of lovely form grew up in his auspicious hermitage. Sthulakesha performed all the birth and other rites for her, in proper order and according to rule. Endowed with beauty, form, and virtue surpassing other women, he named her Pramadvara. Seeing Pramadvara in the hermitage, Ruru, righteous of soul, was overcome by love. Ruru informed his father, the descendant of Bhrigu, along with his friends, and Pramati approached the renowned Sthulakesha to ask for her hand. Sthulakesha gave the maiden Pramadvara to Ruru, arranging the marriage at an auspicious time under a star presided over by the gods. After a few days, as the wedding approached, the maiden of excellent complexion was playing with her friends. She did not see a snake lying asleep, stretched out across her path. Prompted by fate, she stepped on it, unwittingly courting death. The snake, aroused by the law of time as she was heedless, struck her body fiercely with its poison-covered fangs. Bitten by the serpent, she suddenly fell to the ground. Her color faded, her beauty vanished, her ornaments and consciousness lost. With loosened hair, lifeless and no longer to be seen, she became a source of grief for her relatives, though once most worthy of sight. Struck by the serpent’s poison, she lay on the ground as if asleep, her slender form even more enchanting. Her father and other ascetics saw her fallen, writhing on the earth, radiant as a lotus. Then all the eminent twice-born, filled with compassion, gathered there: Svastyatreya, Mahajanu, Kushika, and Shankhamekhala; Uddalaka, Katha, the illustrious Shveta, Bharadvaja, Kaunakritsa, Arstishena, and Gautama also came.