The great emperor Bṛhacchrava, renowned as a guardian of dharma, was a royal sage and a true devotee of the Lord. He had performed horse sacrifices, upholding the sacred traditions of kingship. Yet, despite his innocence and virtue, a grave offense was committed against him—not by an equal, but by a child of immature understanding. Those present prayed that the Lord, who dwells as the soul within all beings, might forgive this transgression. Devotees of the Lord are remarkable in their forbearance. Even when insulted, deceived, cursed, abused, or even killed, they never retaliate, though they may possess the power to do so. Such was the character of the great sage, who, though wronged by the king due to his son’s offense, did not dwell upon it; instead, he was filled with remorse for his son’s act. In this world, the virtuous are often subjected to the ups and downs of duality by others, but they neither grieve nor rejoice, for their reliance is upon the enduring qualities of the self. They remain steadfast and undisturbed. In the course of these events, certain sacred observances and rules were described. One should not lie down without first washing the feet, nor with wet feet or a wet head. It is improper to eat food offered by others, to lie naked, or to lie down at dawn or dusk. Purity is essential: wearing clean garments and maintaining auspiciousness, one should worship cows, Brahmins, fortune, and the infallible Lord before breakfast. Women and those endowed with valor should worship with garlands, fragrances, offerings, and ornaments. A wife, after worshipping her husband, should attend to him and meditate on him as residing within her womb. If the unbroken vow of puṃsavana is upheld for a year, a son destined to surpass even Indra shall be born. Diti, resolute in her desire, agreed to this, receiving the seed from Kaśyapa and faithfully undertaking the vow. Indra, knowing his maternal aunt’s intention, began to serve Diti, who dwelled in the hermitage, with utmost attention. He regularly brought her flowers, fruits, sacred grass, kusha, leaves, sprouts, clay, and water at the proper times. Yet, as Diti observed her vow, Hari, desiring to break it, served her in a crooked manner, like a deer disguised as a deer. Indra searched for a fault in her observance, but found none, for Diti was unwavering. This left Indra in deep anxiety, uncertain how to fulfill his purpose. One evening, however, Diti, exhausted from her vow and having eaten, neglected to wash her feet and lay down unclean, her mind clouded by fate. Seizing this opportunity, Indra, master of yoga, entered Diti’s womb by his yogic power while she slept. With his thunderbolt, he split the golden-hued embryo into seven parts. As each cried out, Indra told them, "Do not cry." As he divided them, all seven, with joined palms, asked, "Indra, why do you wish to kill us, your brothers, the Maruts?" Indra, also known as Kauśika, replied, "Do not fear, brothers. You are dear to me. You are my attendants, the hosts of Maruts, devoted to me alone." By the compassion of Śrīnivāsa, Diti’s embryo did not die, even though struck repeatedly by the thunderbolt, just as Parīkṣit survived the weapon of Drona. Even worshipping the primeval Lord once brings one to equality; Diti had worshipped Hari for nearly a year. Thus, together with Indra, those fifty gods became the Maruts. Their mother’s fault was dispelled, and Hari made them drinkers of Soma. Diti awoke to see her sons, radiant like fire, with the goddess, blameless, rejoicing together with Indra. She said to Indra, "My child, I undertook this most difficult vow, which brings fear to the Adityas, desiring a son. I sought one son, but seven have become sevenfold—how can this be? If you know, my son, speak truly and do not deceive me." Indra replied, "Mother, I understood your intent and came near. Seizing an opportunity, I divided the embryo, my mind set on my purpose, not on righteousness. Your embryo was cut by me into seven parts, and from them arose seven boys. Even as each was further divided into seven, none perished. Seeing this astonishing outcome, I realized it was due to your worship of the Supreme Person, which brings about such success." "Those who worship the Lord, desiring nothing, are truly wise, even if they seek nothing more. But those who seek only their own benefit are not so. Who, being wise, would choose contact with material qualities, which leads even to hell, when one can worship the Lord who bestows the self, the Lord of the universe and one’s own soul? Therefore, O Mother, you ought to forgive this great offense of mine, who am childish and base. By good fortune, your embryo has arisen again from death." Śuka said: Thus permitted by her, pure-hearted and satisfied, Indra, having bowed to her together with the Maruts, returned to heaven. Thus, the auspicious birth of the Maruts has been told, as you asked. What more shall I tell you? Meanwhile, Sūta continued: The king, deeply troubled, reflected on the blameworthy act that had occurred—not by his own hand, but still he felt responsible. He thought, "Alas, I have acted basely, like one unworthy, toward the sinless, the powerful Brahmin who hides his strength." "Surely, because of my disrespect toward the godly, a great calamity, hard to overcome, will soon befall me. Let it come as it will, as expiation for my sin, so that I may never do such a thing again." "Today, may the fire of the angered Brahmin, which has been kindled against me, consume my kingdom, power, and vast treasury, for I, the unfortunate one, may never again harbor such evil thoughts toward Brahmins, gods, or cows." As he pondered thus, he learned that the sage’s son had pronounced death upon him, to come by Takṣaka. The king accepted this, recognizing that the coming of Takṣaka would bring detachment to one so attached. He renounced both this world and the next, having considered their worthlessness beforehand. Resolving to serve at the feet of Kṛṣṇa, he sat down to fast by the immortal river, whose waters are mingled with the dust from Kṛṣṇa’s feet and are more purifying than the Ganges, sanctifying all worlds and their rulers. Who, facing death, would not seek her? Thus, the son of Pāṇḍu, having made his resolve, undertook the vow of fasting unto death at the bank of Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely on the feet of Mukunda, with the determination of a sage, freed from all attachments.