Ruru, a devoted Brahmin, was overwhelmed with grief at the loss of his beloved Pramadvara, whose life had been claimed by a serpent’s bite. With unwavering faith in Krishna, Vishnu, Hrishikesha—the Lord of the worlds and enemy of the asuras—Ruru prayed: “If my devotion to you is steadfast, let my beloved live.” Moved by Ruru’s sorrow, all the gods, filled with compassion, sent a messenger to him. This pure and devoted celestial quickly arrived and spoke the words of the gods to the grieving Ruru: “O Brahmin, I have been sent by all the gods. Listen, best of the twice-born, to what is spoken for your welfare. Your plea is not in vain, Ruru, but for a mortal, there is no return of life once it has departed. The unfortunate daughter of a gandharva and an apsaras has passed away; do not let your mind be consumed by grief.” Yet, the messenger continued, “A means has been established by the great gods in the past. If you wish to undertake it, you may yet obtain Pramadvara.” Eager and hopeful, Ruru asked, “What is this means established by the gods? Tell me truly, O celestial; I shall do as you say—please save me.” The messenger replied, “O descendant of Bhrigu, grant half of your lifespan to the maiden; thus your wife Pramadvara will rise again.” Without hesitation, Ruru declared, “O best of those who move in the sky, I give half of my lifespan to the maiden; let my beloved, adorned with beauty and ornaments, arise.” The king of the Gandharvas and the divine messenger then approached the Lord of Dharma and spoke: “O Lord of Dharma, with half of Ruru’s lifespan, let his wife Pramadvara, the auspicious one, rise—if you so decide.” The Lord of Dharma consented: “O divine messenger, if you wish, let Pramadvara, Ruru’s wife, rise up, endowed with half of Ruru’s lifespan.” At this, Pramadvara arose, her complexion radiant as if waking from sleep, restored to life with half of Ruru’s lifespan. Thus, for the sake of his wife, half the lifespan of Ruru, who was blessed with great splendor and longevity, was diminished. On an auspicious day, their two fathers joyfully arranged the marriage. United, Ruru and Pramadvara delighted in each other, each seeking the other’s welfare. Having obtained his rare wife, radiant as the filament of a lotus, Ruru took a vow to destroy the crooked beings, steadfast in his resolve. Whenever he saw such beings, filled with intense anger, Ruru would always strike them as he was able, seizing his weapon. One day, the Brahmin Ruru entered a great forest, where he saw an aged Dundubha lying down. Raising his staff like the rod of Time, the angry sage, intent on killing, spoke to Dundubha. Dundubha pleaded, “O possessor of austerities, I have done you no wrong today; why, filled with anger, do you wish to strike me?” Ruru replied, “My wife, as dear to me as my own life, was bitten by a serpent; because of that, I made a terrible vow against all serpents. I vowed to slay every serpent I see; therefore, I seek to kill you now—you shall lose your life today.” But then Ruru recognized, “Other serpents have bitten humans here, O Dundubha, but you, who bear the scent of a Dundubha, do not deserve to be harmed. There are various harms, different duties, many sorrows, and separate joys; O Dundubha, being one who knows righteousness, you do not deserve to be harmed.” Hearing Dundubha’s words, Ruru realized he was a sage and did not kill him, though he had been fearful. The venerable Ruru then spoke to him gently, “Tell me, serpent, by what cause have you come to this state, and who are you?” Dundubha revealed, “I was once the sage named Ruru, with a thousand feet; by the curse of a Brahmin, I have come to take the form of a serpent.” Ruru asked, “For what reason did the angry Brahmin curse you, O best of serpents? And for how long will you remain in this form?” Dundubha explained, “In former times, a Brahmin named Khagama was my friend. He was strict in speech, devoted to austerity, and endowed with spiritual power. While playing in childhood, I made a serpent out of grass; he, engaged in the fire ritual, was frightened and fainted. Regaining consciousness, that ascetic, strict in vows and truthful in speech, spoke to me, burning with anger: ‘Just as you made this serpent to frighten me, so by my curse you shall become a serpent, equal in strength.’ Knowing the power of his austerity, I was greatly disturbed and spoke to him: ‘Friend, this was done as a jest for amusement. You ought to forgive me, O Brahmin; let this curse be withdrawn.’ Seeing me greatly troubled, he spoke, breathing hotly again and again: ‘I have not spoken falsely; this shall certainly come to pass. But listen to what I shall say to you, O ascetic; having heard, let this word always remain in your heart. A pure son named Ruru will be born to Pramati; upon seeing him, your curse will be released, and not long after.’ Thus spoken by him, I attained the form of a serpent.” Dundubha concluded, “You are known as Ruru, the son of Pramati; today, having regained my true form, I shall speak to you for your benefit.