In the depths of the netherworld, a pit existed that was none other than a hell itself, O highly fortunate one. Within this pit, the ancestors addressed a brāhmaṇa, saying, “You are the pillar of reeds upon which we hang. As long as you live, O brāhmaṇa, so long do we remain here. When you die, our minds tainted by sin, we shall descend further into hell.” Yet, they revealed hope: “If you, through union with a wife, produce a virtuous son, by that act we shall be freed from this sin. No other austerity, nor the merit of pilgrimages, can accomplish this. Perform this act, O wise one, and deliver your ancestors from fear.” The brāhmaṇa, moved by their plight, promised to do so. He worshipped the Bull-bannered One—Lord Shiva—raised his ancestors from the pit, and became a leader among the Gaṇas. This brāhmaṇa, beloved of Rudra and named Suveśa, was esteemed and powerful, eventually leading Rudra’s celestial hosts. Therefore, O lord of mountains, the sage counseled, “Perform severe austerity and produce a son of great virtue by your daughter, she of excellent complexion.” Thus addressed, the lord of mountains, steadfast in discipline, undertook incomparable austerity, which satisfied me, the narrator. Then I appeared before him and declared, “I am the giver of boons. Speak, for I am pleased with your austerity, O virtuous lord of mountains.” Humbly, he replied, “O Lord, I desire a son adorned with all virtues. Grant me this boon, if you are truly pleased with me, O master.” Hearing these words, O twice-born ones, I granted him the boon he wished for in his heart. “A daughter will be born to you, O lord of mountains, through your austerity. By her power, you will attain renowned fame everywhere. Honored by all the gods, surrounded by countless holy places, purified by merit, she will be revered everywhere. She will be your eldest, and others will follow after her.” In due course, the lord of mountains begot in Menā three daughters: Aparnā, Ekaparṇā, and Ekapāṭalā. Nyagrodhā, Ekaparṇā, and Pāṭalā, as well as Ekapāṭalā, practiced austerity, each consuming only a single leaf as food. For a hundred thousand years, Ekaparṇā sustained herself on a single leaf, a feat difficult even for gods and demons. Ekapāṭalā likewise subsisted on a single pāṭala leaf, and after a thousand years, all the sisters took such food. Aparnā, however, remained without any food at all. Her mother, distressed by maternal affection, implored her, “Eat!” But Aparnā, steadfast in her austerity, refused. Thus, she became renowned in the worlds by that very name—Aparnā, “the one without leaves”—and was worshipped by the gods. This is the account of the three maidens whose austerities endure as long as the earth supports all that is movable and immovable. Their bodies shaped by austerity, they embraced yoga, remaining greatly fortunate and possessing unfading youth. They are mothers of the worlds and perpetual celibates, always sustaining the worlds by their own austerity. Among them, Umā was the most distinguished: the eldest, of excellent complexion, endowed with great yogic power. She approached Mahādeva. Dattaka, also called Uśanā, was her son; Ekaparṇā bore Devala as her son. The third maiden, Ekapāṭalā, bore a son who became the Jaigīṣavya of Alarka. She also had two sons, Śaṅkha and Likhita, not from the womb; and the splendid Uma, whom I have praised to you. Through her intense austerity, Uma’s power threatened to consume the entire three worlds. Witnessing this, I spoke to her: “O goddess, why do you torment the worlds with your austerity, O radiant one? All this was created by you; do not destroy it by such means. For you sustain all these worlds with your splendor. Tell me, O Mother of the Universe, what is your desire now from us?” Uma replied, “O Grandfather, you already know the purpose for which I undertake this austerity; so why do you ask me again?” I answered, “O auspicious one, for the purpose for which you perform austerity, he himself will come to you and choose you. Śarva alone is the supreme lord, the lord of all lords in all the worlds; we are always under his command, O auspicious one, his servants indeed. That god of gods, the supreme lord, the self-born, will himself come to you, O goddess, of noble form and unique appearance.” Maheśvara, the lord of the mountain realm, shining like the moon and Indra, assuming a fearsome form, would indeed arrive. Then the gods spoke to her, saying, “O beautiful goddess, soon Dhūrjaṭi, blue and red in hue, will come. He, the lord of the gods, will become your husband; do not continue your austerity.” Having circumambulated the daughter of the mountain, the gods and sages departed, becoming invisible to her. She too ceased her recitation of hymns and remained in her own auspicious hermitage. Standing near an aśoka tree at the door, she awaited. Then Hara, the remover of the gods’ distress, adorned with a crescent moon, appeared. He came assuming a deformed form: short, with small arms, his nose broken, hunchbacked, and tawny hair at the ends. Thus, the divine encounter began.