It is said that, by the curse of Rudra, Daksha was born again, and with him, all those illustrious sages such as Bhrigu also took birth once more. In the first Treta Yuga, during the great sacrifice performed by Manu Vaivasvata, the god himself assumed the form of Varuni. Thus, both Prajapati Daksha and the wise Tryambaka entered new births, carrying with them a sense of remorse from their previous existence. Because of this, the teaching is clear: one should not harbor regret over choices made, for whether one enters a good or bad birth, remorse brings no benefit to the soul. The wise, therefore, avoid such feelings. Then, a question arose: How did Sati, Daksha’s daughter, out of anger, abandon her body and take birth again in the house of the mountain king? How did her former body exist in another form, and how did her union and conversation with Bhava, the great god, take place? How did the svayamvara, the self-choice ceremony, occur in that birth, and how did the wondrous marriage come to be? These were the questions posed, and a request was made: “O Brahman, narrate all this in detail, for we long to hear this most auspicious and delightful story.” Thus, the sage began: “Listen, O best among sages, to the story of Uma and Shankara, a tale that destroys sin, bestows merit, and fulfills all desires. Once, Himavan, the lord of mountains, approached the sage Kashyapa, the most eminent among mortals, who had come to his abode. Himavan asked him about an event of great renown and benefit to the world: ‘O sage, by what means do the worlds become imperishable? How does supreme fame and worthiness of worship among the virtuous arise? Please tell me.’ Kashyapa replied, ‘All this is attained through offspring. My own fame, as well as that of Brahmā and the sages, is due to progeny. Do you not see, O lord of mountains, the purpose of your question? I shall recount to you what I have witnessed. As I journeyed toward Vārāṇasī, I saw in the sky a celestial, radiant, and incomparable palace, resplendent with majesty. Beneath it, in a pit, I heard a cry of distress. By the power of my austerity, I understood its source and remained hidden there. Then, a brāhmaṇa, disciplined and pure, his soul cleansed by holy baths and steadfast in supreme austerity, arrived at that place. As he passed by, a tiger threatened him, and he entered the area where the pit lay. Within the pit, on a pillar of reeds, he saw sages hanging head-down, afflicted and sorrowful. The brāhmaṇa questioned them: ‘Who are you, hanging thus in suffering? By what means will liberation come to you, O sinless ones?’ They replied, ‘We are your fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, who performed meritorious deeds. We suffer because of your wicked action. This is a hell, existing in the form of a pit. You are the pillar of reeds; upon you we hang. As long as you live, we remain here. When you die, we shall fall into hell, our minds tainted by sin. If you, by union with a wife, produce a virtuous son, we shall be freed from this sin by that act. No other austerity, nor the fruit of pilgrimages, can accomplish this. Do this, O wise one, and deliver your ancestors from fear.’ The brāhmaṇa, having promised thus, worshipped the Bull-bannered One—Rudra—raised his ancestors from the pit, and became a leader of the Gaṇas. Beloved of Rudra, this brāhmaṇa, named Suveśa, esteemed and powerful, became a leader among Rudra’s Gaṇas. Therefore, O lord of mountains, perform severe austerity and beget a son of great virtue by your daughter of excellent complexion.’ Thus instructed, Himavan, steadfast in discipline, performed incomparable austerities, which satisfied me. Then I appeared before him and said, ‘I am the giver of boons. Speak, for I am pleased with your austerity, O virtuous one.’ Himavan replied, ‘O Lord, I desire a son adorned with all virtues. Grant me this boon if you are truly pleased with me.’ Hearing these words, I granted him the boon he wished for in his heart. ‘A daughter will be born to you, O lord of mountains, by the power of your austerity. Through her, your fame will become renowned everywhere. Honored by all the gods, surrounded by holy places, purified by merit, she will be revered by all the deities. She will be your eldest, and others will follow after her.’ In due course, Himavan begot in Menā three daughters: Aparnā, Ekaparṇā, and Ekapāṭalā. Nyagrodhā, Ekaparṇā, Pāṭalā, and Ekapāṭalā, after consuming only a single leaf, practiced intense austerity. For a hundred thousand years—a feat difficult even for gods and demons—Ekaparṇā sustained herself on a single leaf as food. Ekapāṭalā likewise subsisted on a single pāṭala leaf, and after a thousand years, they all maintained this practice. Aparnā, however, took no food at all. Her mother, moved by affection, implored her, ‘Eat, my child,’ distressed by her daughter’s severe penance. Thus addressed by her mother, Aparnā, steadfast in her difficult austerities, became renowned throughout the worlds by that very name and was worshipped by the gods.