Aditi, ever devoted to austerity, was angered when she heard her husband declare the cosmic egg slain. She rebuked him, saying, “Why do you call this egg slain? Behold, it is here, unbroken. Only the death of our adversaries is forthcoming, not the egg itself.” With these words, and stirred by her husband’s urging, the goddess released the embryo, which blazed forth with extraordinary radiance. As the embryo shone with the brilliance of the rising sun, Kashyapa, filled with reverence, bowed and praised it with ancient, primordial words. While he was offering these praises, the being emerged from the egg, manifest and radiant like the petal of a lotus, his brilliance illuminating all directions. At that moment, a bodiless voice resounded from the sky, deep as a thundercloud, addressing Kashyapa: “O sage, because you declared this egg slain, your son born of Aditi will be known as Martanda.” The celestial voice continued, “He will slay the asuras, those enemies who seize the shares of sacrifice.” The gods heard these words from the heavens. The danavas, their strength destroyed, were seized by incomparable dismay. Indra then summoned the daityas to battle. With the gods, who were filled with joy, the danavas approached, and a terrible battle erupted between the gods and the asuras. In this fierce conflict, the whole world seemed ablaze, as showers of weapons and missiles flew, all watched by the blessed Martanda. Martanda’s radiance burned the great asuras, reducing them to ashes, and all the dwellers of heaven rejoiced with unparalleled joy. They praised Martanda, the source of radiance, and Aditi as well, for they had regained their rightful domains and their shares of sacrifice as before. Martanda too assumed his own dominion, surrounded above and below by rays clustered like kadamba flowers. He shone like a mass of fire, his form not yet fully distinct. At this point, a question arose: “How did the Sun later obtain a form even more beautiful, shaped like a kadamba sphere? Tell me that, Lord of the world.” Tvashtar, the divine artisan, gave his daughter Samjna to Vivasvat, propitiating him and bowing before him, O lord of creatures. The lord of cattle begot three children in Samjna: two sons of great splendor, and a daughter, Yamuna. The radiance of Martanda Vivasvat was so intense that he scorched the three worlds, along with all their moving and unmoving beings. Seeing Vivasvat’s form, shaped like a sphere and unable to endure his great radiance, Samjna spoke to her own shadow: “I shall go, blessings to you, to my father’s abode; you must remain here unchanged, by my command, O auspicious one. These two sons and this beautiful daughter are to be considered as mine; you must never reveal this to the Lord.” She added, “O goddess, from the time of the hair-grasping until the curse, I shall never tell you my decision; go wherever you desire.” Thus addressed, Samjna, abashed, departed to her father’s house and dwelt there for a thousand years. Her father repeatedly urged her to return to her husband, but Samjna became a mare and went to the northern lands of the Kurus. There, she performed austerities without food. Meanwhile, as Samjna had gone to her father, Chaya, intent on Samjna’s words, remained behind. Assuming Samjna’s form, Chaya approached Bhaskara—the Sun—and the blessed Sun, thinking her to be Samjna, was with her. In the same way, he begot two sons and a daughter with Chaya; but Samjna made those children earthly. Chaya did not show the same affection to the children born later as to the former. Manu forgave her, but Yama did not. Greatly afflicted by his mother and father in many ways, suffering intensely, Yama, out of anger and childishness, compelled by fate, threatened Chaya with his foot but did not strike her body. Chaya declared, “Because you threatened your father’s wife, most venerable, with your foot, your foot will fall—there is no doubt.” Yama, greatly troubled by this curse, reported everything to his father Manu, righteous as he was: “O god, our mother does not show equal affection to us; forsaking the elder, she wishes to favor the younger with devotion. My foot was only raised against her, not placed on her body; whether from childishness or confusion, you should forgive this, lord. Father, I have been cursed by my mother in anger, for I am her son; therefore, O best of ascetics, I do not consider her my mother. By your grace, O lord, may my foot not fall as a result of my mother’s curse today; consider this, O protector of the earth.” Manu replied, “Without doubt, my son, there is a great reason for this, by which anger entered you, who know and practice righteousness. There is a remedy for all curses, but for those cursed by their mother, there is nowhere any reversal. It is not possible to make your mother’s words false; yet, out of affection for you as my son, I will grant you some favor. Worms will take the flesh and depart to the earth; her words have been fulfilled in truth, and you shall be protected.” The Sun then spoke to Chaya: “For what reason, among your children who are equal, have you shown greater affection to one? Surely you are not their true mother; some other identity has come to you. Even among children without qualities, a mother does not give a curse.” Thus, the story unfolds—of Martanda’s birth, the triumph over the asuras, Samjna’s departure and Chaya’s substitution, the birth of new children, Yama’s suffering and curse, Manu’s intervention, and the revelation of Chaya’s true identity—each event shining with the sacred light of the ancient tradition.