This is the sacred account of three extraordinary maidens whose austerities would endure for as long as the earth itself supports all that moves and all that is still. Through their intense tapas, their bodies were transformed, and each embraced the path of yoga. Greatly blessed, they possessed unfading youth and were radiant with the fruits of their ascetic practices. These three were revered as mothers of the worlds, yet they remained perpetual celibates, sustaining creation by the power of their austerities. Among them, Umā stood foremost—eldest, of excellent complexion, endowed with immense yogic power. It was she who approached Mahādeva, the great god. From these maidens came illustrious sons: Umā’s son was Dattaka, also known as Uśanā; Ekaparṇā bore Devala; and the third maiden, Ekapāṭalā, gave birth to a son who became Jaigīṣavya of Alarka. Ekapāṭalā also had two sons, Śaṅkha and Likhita, who were born not from her womb. And once again, the splendid Uma, who had been praised, was remembered. Through the might of her austerity, Uma’s tapas began 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. You sustain the worlds with your own 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 then assured her, “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, of manifold and unique appearance, like none other. Maheśvara, the dweller of the mountain realm, lord of the moving and unmoving, the first, immeasurable, shining like the moon and Indra, assuming a fearsome form.” Then the gods spoke to Uma, 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. Uma ceased her recitation of hymns and remained in her own auspicious hermitage. Standing at the door near an aśoka tree, Uma awaited. Then Hara, the remover of the gods’ distress, arrived, adorned with a crescent moon. He had assumed a deformed form—short, with small arms, a broken nose, hunchbacked, and tawny hair at the ends. With a distorted face, he spoke: “O goddess, I choose you as my bride.” But Uma, accomplished in yoga, recognized Śaṅkara had come. With a pure heart, intent on compassion, Uma welcomed him with offerings of water for washing the feet and for welcome, and with honeyed beverage. She worshipped him with fragrant flowers, for she was devoted to brahmins and dear to them. She said, “O lord, I am not independent; my father is the head of the household. He alone has authority in giving me away; I am a maiden, O best of brahmins. Go and ask my father, the imperishable lord of mountains. If he gives me to you, O Brahmin, then that is proper for me.” Then the blessed god, still in his altered form, approached the king of mountains: “O king of mountains, give me your daughter.” The king, recognizing Rudra even in his strange form and fearful of a curse, replied, “O Lord, I do not disregard Brahmins or gods on earth. But listen, O wise one, to what was decided before. A svayaṃvara will be held for my daughter, with Brahmins honored. Whomever she chooses herself there, he will be her husband.” Hearing this, the bull-bannered lord, of great mind, returned to the goddess and spoke: “Devi, your father has permitted a svayaṃvara. There, you will choose your own husband; whoever you select will become your spouse. So, after taking leave, I will go. O beautiful-faced one, how could you abandon one so handsome and choose someone unworthy?” Uma reflected on his words and the feeling placed in her heart by Rudra. She replied, “Let your mind not waver. I will choose you; there is nothing surprising in this. Or, if you have any doubt about me, O Brahmin, right here and now, O greatly fortunate one, I choose you in my heart.” Taking a garland in her hands, Uma stood, placed it on Śambhu’s shoulder, and declared, “You are chosen by me.” Then the blessed god, chosen by the goddess, spoke to the ashoka tree, as if reviving it with his words: “Because I have been chosen by you with this most auspicious garland, you will be free from old age and become immortal. You will have any form you wish, bear flowers at will, grant desires, be dear to me, adorned with all ornaments and flowers, and bear all flowers and fruits. You will be able to consume all foods, taste like nectar, possess all fragrances, and be firmly beloved among the gods.” Thus, the divine union was sealed, and blessings flowed forth, sanctifying all that was present.