Līlāvatī, having observed the period of purification, bathed and devoted herself to the service of her husband. In due time, a daughter was born to them—a radiant child with lotus-like, restless eyes, whose arrival filled all her relatives with joy. To celebrate this auspicious event, her father summoned learned Brāhmaṇas and had the prescribed rites performed with great reverence. The girl, named Kalāvatī, grew up in the house of her father, who was as radiant as the moon. As the years passed, Kalāvatī blossomed, and when she reached the age of ten, she matured and experienced her first menstruation. In the city of Kāñcanapura lived a renowned merchant named Śaṅkhapati. Recognizing his virtue and standing, the sage chose Śaṅkhapati as a suitable husband for his beloved daughter. The wedding was celebrated with the sounds of Vedic chants and musical instruments, and the sage, his heart overflowing with joy, gave his daughter away in marriage according to all the proper rites, seeking auspiciousness for her new life. The bond between the families grew strong: the sage regarded Śaṅkhapati as his own son, and Śaṅkhapati, wise and grateful, honored the sage as a father. Yet, soon after the marriage, Śaṅkhapati, together with his brother-in-law, set out again for trade, as was their custom, perhaps forgetting the comfort of home in their pursuit of fortune. The Sūta continued: the sage gathered various precious jewels, arranged ships, and set out with his companions from one country to another, engaging in commerce with great determination and skill. For a long time, they stayed abroad, buying and selling goods, their minds intent on prosperity. But destiny, shaped by past actions, brought a sudden turn of misfortune. One night, while all were asleep, thieves crept in and stole away their great wealth. In the morning, after performing his daily duties, Śaṅkhapati entered the assembly and addressed the king, saying, “Listen, O lord of the earth. All the thieves have escaped; we do not know who they are, O king.” The king’s eyes reddened with anger. He summoned all those present, declaring, “Come here at once, or I will have you and your followers put to death,” he ordered his messengers. Despite many efforts, the goods that had been stolen and mixed among the thieves could not be recovered. In despair, Śaṅkhapati lamented, “The king will kill me along with my group; what can I do? Where is happiness for me now? Death at the Narmada grants attainment of Shiva’s world.” Meanwhile, a foreign merchant, seeing Śaṅkhapati’s remaining wealth, suspected him of being the thief and, seeking to protect himself, had Śaṅkhapati bound. Even the king did not consider whether he was opposed to Hari; he simply ordered Śaṅkhapati to be thrown into prison. There, with iron chains on his limbs and feet, the virtuous merchant and his brother-in-law grieved deeply and repeatedly. Śaṅkhapati mourned, “Where are my daughter and wife now? Behold how fate has turned against me. Surely, I must have done much that was displeasing to destiny in the past.” Thus, father-in-law and brother-in-law remained in distress for twelve days, their hearts heavy with sorrow. It is said that those wise ones who always listen to the stories of the Lord dwell in the abode of Hari, while those who are opposed to Hari will wander through many hells. Dharma, sacrifice, the king, and even the thief—all are dear to Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune. To the mothers and the gods, the offerings in sacrifice are made as ‘svadha’ and ‘svaha’. Of these, the thief is the destroyer, yet all are servants of dharma. Back in the house, the wealth of the virtuous one, which lacked truth, was gradually depleted. The family sold garments, ornaments, and whatever else they could, and consumed the proceeds to survive. Eventually, there came a day when Kalāvatī, the daughter, was left without food or clothing. Seeing her father praying earnestly to the Lord of the universe, she too began to pray to Hari, seeking refuge and solace in the divine.