Once, as the sage Maudgalya was taking his meal, his thumb suddenly fell from his hand. Unperturbed, his wife Nalayani picked up the food from his dish and ate it without hesitation, revealing her unwavering devotion and acceptance. Pleased by her pure-heartedness, the sage—endowed with the power to grant boons—repeatedly invited her to ask for a blessing. Nalayani, steadfast and sincere, responded, “I am not old, nor harsh, nor lacking in vigor or kindness; I am not irritable, nor do I suffer from foul breath, nor am I thin or greedy. How may I please you, and how shall I dwell with you? Tell me, O blessed one, that I may fulfill your heart’s desire.” Nalayani, flawless in form, addressed her husband—who was accomplished in untroubled deeds, a fulfiller of wishes, and pleased by her devotion. She said, “O blessed one, renowned in all worlds, whose being is divided fivefold and yet united as one—enjoy my company, O incomprehensible soul.” The wise and great ascetic responded, “So be it.” Assuming five forms at once, the sage delighted her in every possible way. Maudgalya, honored among the sages in their hermitages, dwelt with Nalayani—she of lovely hair and enchanting smile—who was cherished above all others. The sage moved about as he wished, taking forms at will. When he journeyed to heaven, the divine sages accompanied him. In the celestial realms, he wandered among the gods, nourished on ambrosia, and was honored by Shachi in the palaces of Shakra. With Mahendra’s celestial army, the blessed sage traversed the mountains and ascended the radiant chariot of the sun. Upon reaching Meru, he made his dwelling there, bathing in the celestial Ganga and remaining with Nalayani. Amid the moon’s web of rays, he spoke as the wind, and again, the great sage, assuming the form of a mountain, practiced deep yoga. By his power, a great river sprang forth from his midst; when the sala tree blossomed, the sage manifested himself. The creeper, symbolizing Nalayani, entwined herself around him, nourishing his form and ever accompanying him. Together, they wandered with Skanda, and their mutual affection grew ever deeper. By her favor, the blessed sage, foremost among ascetics, brought his wanderings to a close, and she too, radiant and devoted, ceased her journey by divine arrangement. Through ascetic practice and yoga, he pleased the goddess; Nalayani, devoted to one husband, became renowned for her fidelity. Like Arundhati and Sita, she was supremely devoted, and Maudgalya’s virtue surpassed even that of Damayanti’s mother. This, O great king, is the truth—let no doubt enter your mind: Nalayani was born by divine arrangement. O King, your daughter Krishna—radiant, auspicious, and steadfast—was devoted to that sage; her mind never strayed from him. Thus, her heart was firmly set upon that distinguished Brahmin. King Drupada, hearing this tale, asked, “Tell me, O Brahman, why was the auspicious Nalayani born at my sacrifice as Krishna? Speak, O best knower of the Vedas.” The sage replied, “Hear, O King, how Rudra granted her a boon, and for what purpose she was born in your house. I shall recount Krishna’s previous incarnation: the auspicious Nalayani was once known as Indrasena. Having Maudgalya as her husband, she lived free from distress and enjoyed happiness with the great sage. Many years passed in bliss, as if in moments, until, satisfied with pleasures, Maudgalya became detached and sought the highest Dharma, devoting himself to Brahman-yoga. He abandoned her, and she fell to the earth, while Maudgalya, ever perfected by austerities, continued his path. Nalayani, unsatisfied, pleaded, ‘Be gracious, O Lord, do not abandon me! I am yet unsatisfied by the enjoyment of desires, O Brahman sage!’ Maudgalya replied, ‘Because you speak so openly and act in ways that hinder asceticism, hear my words: You will be born among men as a famous princess, the daughter of the great king Drupada of the Panchalas. There, your husbands will be five, renowned and handsome, with whom you will enjoy pleasure for a long time.’ Thus cursed, the illustrious Nalayani, distressed, went to the forest. Unsatisfied by enjoyments, she worshipped the Lord of Gods with severe austerity, subsisting on air, without food or hope, following the sun and performing the fivefold penance. By her intense austerities, Pasupati himself was pleased, and Rudra, Lord of all worlds, appeared before her. He said, ‘You will have a supreme birth, O blessed one, and five illustrious husbands. All will have the form and prowess of Mahendra, and with them, you will accomplish great deeds among the gods.’ Nalayani questioned, ‘I have always asked for one husband; how then will there be five? Tell me how a woman may have many husbands.’ Rudra replied, ‘You have asked me five times for a husband; therefore, you shall have five who will bring you happiness. Righteousness decrees that a woman should have but one husband, as established before; for a man, many wives are sanctioned, and righteousness is thus accomplished.’ Thus, by divine arrangement, Nalayani was reborn as Krishna—your daughter, O King—devoted always to her husbands, her mind unwavering and her heart steadfast.