In the ancient and sacred Bhaviṣya Mahāpurāṇa, within the Pratisarga Parvan and the section known as the Caturyuga-khaṇḍa-aparaparvāya, the story unfolds as follows: Once, there was a noble king, the lord of Dharmasthala, whose rule was marked by righteousness and virtue. His queen, Suśīlā, was a woman of great devotion and virtue, ever faithful to her husband. The king also had a younger sister named Madhumatī, renowned for her beauty, virtue, and many good qualities. Wishing to find the best possible husband for his beloved sister, the king’s son—Sattvaśīla—set out, journeying far and wide in search of a suitable suitor. For his studies, Sattvaśīla himself traveled to Kāśī, the sacred city. There, he encountered a distinguished brāhmaṇa named Vāmana, a man celebrated for his noble appearance, virtue, and maturity. Meanwhile, Madhumatī, overcome with longing and distress, neglected all care for food, clothing, drink, and sleep. She was deeply affected by her yearning. Suśīlā, still a young girl, happened to see the brāhmaṇa Vāmana. Elsewhere, Hariśarmā, engaged in ritual, encountered the brāhmaṇa Trivikrama. Satyaśīla met Keśava, the son of his guru, in Kāśī. On the thirteenth day of the dark fortnight of the month of Māgha, under the auspicious alignment of Bhṛgu, a tragic event occurred: the maiden was bitten by a serpent. The brāhmaṇas—moved by compassion and duty—exerted themselves to the utmost, striving to save her. Hariśarmā performed all the necessary rites in strict accordance with the Vedic injunctions. Yet, fate was unkind. Trivikrama, following the dictates of love, suffered greatly in many ways. Keśava, overwhelmed by grief, gathered the bones of his beloved, while Vāmana, collecting her ashes, was tormented by the fire of separation. In another time and place, on the banks of the sacred Sarayu river, stood the auspicious city of Lakṣmaṇa. There lived Rāmaśarmā, devoted to the meditation of Lord Śiva. His wife, Viśālākṣī, prepared a great feast, but tragedy struck—their child died, overcome by the force of past karma. Though tormented by grief, Viśālākṣī did not weep. Instead, after reciting powerful mantras and performing purification rites, she revived her son. Having arranged the meal, she gave the reviving mantra and restored life to her child. However, her journey was not yet complete. Arriving elsewhere, that same woman was burned by Hariśarmā, and the son was burned by his own father, who was stricken with sorrow. This son was none other than the child of the king, the master of Dharmasthalī, the very embodiment of virtue. Through divine grace, he was restored to life. Grateful, he addressed his benefactor: “You have granted me life; now, choose a boon from me today.” Keśava, still bearing the bones of his beloved, was directed to seek out this righteous one without delay. Upon reaching him, Keśava recounted how life had been restored. Hearing these words, Keśava promptly entrusted all the bones to that twice-born one, acknowledging, “I go to that righteous one to whom I am rightfully bound by dharma.” Thus, the tale weaves together the threads of dharma, love, loss, and restoration, as recounted by the wise Vetāla, who, prompted by the king, recited verses on righteousness and the proper course of action. The story stands as a testament to the enduring power of virtue, devotion, and the mysterious workings of fate.