Thus, after being addressed by Vishvarupa, the goddess respectfully circumambulated Rudra and made her way toward the sacred river Ganga, the triple-flowing stream. In the ancient days, within the holy forest of Naimisha, the gods gathered to perform a great sacrificial session. There, O King, Vaivasvata, the lord of death, made peace with Shamitri. During this time, Yama, having been consecrated at the sacrifice, refrained from taking any lives. As a result, creatures multiplied, and death ceased to visit the world; the population of living beings increased greatly. Soma, Shakra (Indra), Varuna, Kubera, the Sadhyas, Rudras, Vasus, and the Ashvins—all the gods, along with Prajapati, the lord of all creatures, assembled there. Troubled by the swelling numbers of mortals, they approached the teacher of the worlds, seeking refuge. Filled with fear, they said, “Out of anxiety and the desire for happiness, we come to you for protection, for the number of humans has become overwhelming.” The teacher replied, “Why do you fear mortals, when you are all immortals? No fear should arise in you from those destined to die.” But the gods explained, “Mortals and immortals have become alike; there is no distinction at all. Disturbed by this lack of difference, we have come seeking the restoration of order.” The teacher assured them, “Vaivasvata is currently engaged in the sacrifice; because of this, humans do not die. When his work is done and his vow fulfilled, death will return to men at the appointed time. Know that only a portion of Vaivasvata is present, empowered by your own energy. When the end comes, your power will not prevail among men.” Having heard these words, the ancient gods proceeded to the place where the sacrifice was being performed. There, gathered together, they beheld a wondrous sight—a lotus blooming on the Bhagirathi, the sacred Ganga. Amazed, Indra, the valiant king of the gods, stepped forward. There, where the goddess Ganga is ever manifest, he saw a radiant maiden, glowing like fire. This maiden, weeping and longing for water, entered the river Ganga and stood there. As a tear fell from her into the water, a golden lotus blossomed at that very spot. Witnessing this marvel, Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt, approached the maiden and asked gently, “Who are you, good lady, and why do you weep? Tell me truly, for I wish to understand.” The maiden replied, “You will know who I am and the reason for my sorrow. Come, O King, approach me—I will show you the cause of my tears.” As she moved, Indra followed, and soon he saw, from a distance, a handsome young man seated in the posture of accomplishment, playing dice with maidens atop the king of mountains. Indra, the lord of the world, spoke sternly to the youth, “Know that this world is under my dominion, O wise one. I am the lord!”—angered by the young man’s deep absorption in his game. The god, perceiving Indra’s anger, abandoned his play and looked back at Indra with a fierce gaze. Under the king of the gods’ penetrating look, the youth stood motionless, like a pillar. When the play had gone on long enough, the god addressed the weeping goddess, “Bring him here, for I am weary; let pride not enter him again.” As the goddess touched Indra, his limbs slackened and he fell to the ground. The blessed one of fierce energy admonished him, “Never act thus again, Shakra, in any way.” He then commanded, “Restrain him, O great mountain king, for your strength and power are immeasurable. Enter the opening of the middle one, where those like you, shining like the sun, dwell.” Opening the cave of the great mountain, Indra beheld four others of equal splendor within. Troubled, he wondered, “Will I too become like these?” The lord of mountains, his eyes blazing with anger, addressed Indra, “Enter this cave, O Shatakratu, for once in your youth you scorned me.” Thus addressed, the king of the gods trembled with fear, his limbs slack like a leaf of the ashvattha tree shaken by the wind atop the mountain. With joined palms, trembling before the bull-bannered one, Indra was addressed thus: “You are the first of all the worlds today.” Ugravarca, laughing, declared, “Those of such conduct do not attain what remains here. These too will meet the same fate in the future; therefore, enter this hollow tree and remain there.” He further proclaimed, “She will become your wife, without doubt. All of you must enter a human womb. There, after performing many difficult deeds and sending many others to their end, you must accomplish other tasks, each connected with various purposes. We shall descend from the world of the gods to the world of humans, where the difficult path to liberation is established. The gods—Dharma, Vayu, Maghavan, and the Ashvins—will become your fathers in the womb of a woman.” Hearing these words, Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt and foremost among the gods, spoke again, “For the sake of this task, by my power, I will grant them a fifth son, born from me.” Thus, Vishvabhuk, the supporter of all beings, Shibi the mighty king, Shanti the fourth, and Tejasvi are remembered as the fifth among them. To these, the blessed one with the mighty bow granted the desired boon, as was fitting. And he assigned to them as wife the woman beloved in all the worlds, their fortune among humans. Then, together with them, that god went to Narayana—the immeasurable one, eternal, unmanifest, unborn, ancient, everlasting, the universe itself, of infinite forms. Among them, one was white and another was black. The one called Kesha is said to be black in color. Those who formerly assumed the forms of Indra, bound in the hollow of the northern mountain—these are the valorous Pandavas; among them, Savyasachi is a portion of Indra. Thus, O King, these Pandavas were born, who were formerly Indras, and this fortune was previously assigned to them—their wife, Draupadi of divine form. For how could a woman, by her own deeds, arise from the earth in any other way than by divine arrangement—she whose beauty shines like the moon and sun, and whose fragrance spreads from her very body? And now, O King, with affection I grant you another wondrous boon: behold the sons of Kunti with divine sight, endowed with the merits and divine bodies of their previous births. Then Vyasa, pure and supremely noble, through his great austerity, bestowed divine sight upon the king, who beheld them all as they had been in their former divine forms. He saw them adorned with golden crowns, shining like Indra, radiant as fire and the sun, with crested hair, beautiful in form, youthful, broad-chested, and tall as palm trees.