On the sacred mountain, a wondrous celebration unfolded. The celestial Apsarases danced with exquisite grace, while the lords of the gods sang melodious hymns. The joyful hosts of Gandharvas played their divine instruments, their music filling the air with delight, and many among them swiftly praised the best of gods. Amidst this splendor, the great god—he who had destroyed Bhaga’s eye—remained on the mountain, surrounded by his powerful hosts, who were as mighty as Indra, Yama, and Agni. He lingered there not for his own sake, but to bring joy to the goddess. Together with her, the blessed one, destroyer of desire, performed mysterious acts—deeds the assembled gods longed to understand. Upon the peak of Himavat, Mahādeva, for the pleasure of the goddess, repeatedly caused laughter among his hosts, who appeared in myriad forms, each more delightful than the last. The goddess, adorned with the crescent moon upon her brow, was delighted, as Mahādeva enjoyed himself with noble, wise, and auspicious beings who could assume any form at will. In time, the supreme goddess approached her mother, Menā, who was seated on a shining, wondrous golden throne. When Satī, radiant in her divine form, arrived, Menā, beloved of Himavat, honored her faultless daughter with a splendid seat and addressed her warmly, “After so long you have come, my daughter with auspicious eyes. Tell me, are you lacking in amusements, though you are united with your husband in play?” Menā continued, “Those who are destitute and without shelter, O Umā, they play in such a way as your husband does, O auspicious one.” These words did not please Satī, yet, endowed with great patience, she remained silent. When her mother released her, Satī returned to the god and spoke. She said, “Lord, master of gods, I will not remain here on this mountain. O radiant one, create another dwelling for me somewhere among the worlds.” Mahādeva gently replied, “O goddess, whenever I have spoken to you of a dwelling, you have never chosen any other place to live, O Devi. Now, O beautiful one, you yourself seek another dwelling; why do you search for it, O goddess? Tell me, you of the pure smile.” Satī explained, “Today, O lord of gods, I went to my father’s house, and there, in solitude, my mother spoke to me about worldly matters. She worshipped me with seats and other offerings, and then said, ‘O Umā, your husband is always poor in amusements, O auspicious one.’ She says you play, but your play is not like that of the other gods. Though you delight with various hosts, this displeases my mother, O bull-bannered one.” Hearing this, the god smiled and, wishing to make the goddess laugh, replied, “Just so, there is no doubt—why were you angry? For Krittivāsa is indeed unclad and dwells in cremation grounds. I have no fixed abode; I wander in forests and mountain caves, surrounded by naked attendants, O lotus-eyed one. But do not be angry with your mother, O goddess; she spoke the truth. There is no relative on earth equal to a mother for living beings.” Satī answered, “I have nothing to do with relatives, O lord of the gods. Do as you wish, O great god, so that I may find happiness.” Hearing her words, the lord of the gods, for her sake, left his own mountain and journeyed to Meru, attended by gods and siddhas, accompanied by his wife and their devoted followers. Now, a question arose among the sages: How did the horse sacrifice of Daksha, son of Prachetas, come to ruin during the reign of Vaivasvata? Knowing that the goddess’s anger was the cause, the all-pervading lord grew wrathful. How did Mahādeva, in his rage, bring about the destruction of mighty Daksha’s sacrifice? The sages longed to hear the tale in detail. The answer was given: “I shall describe to you, O brahmins, how Mahādeva, angered and wishing to please the goddess, destroyed the sacrifice. Long ago, on a peak of Meru worshipped by the three worlds, there was a place called Jyotishthala, wondrous and adorned with all gems. Immeasurable and unassailable, revered by all, there, on the mountain slope, the god sat, surrounded by all kinds of precious minerals. He sat, broad as a couch, with the daughter of the mountain king ever by his side. The mighty Adityas and powerful Vasus were present, as were the great Ashvins, best among healers. King Vaishravana, surrounded by Guhyakas and the illustrious Yakshas, master of Kailasa, was also there. The great sage Ushanas worshipped the great soul, together with Sanatkumara and the foremost sages. Angiras and the leading divine rishis attended, as did Vishvavasu the Gandharva, and Narada and Parvata. Hosts of Apsaras gathered in great numbers, while a gentle, auspicious wind blew, carrying pure fragrances. The trees blossomed with flowers of all seasons, and the Vidyadharas, Sadhyas, Siddhas, and ascetics assembled there. All worshipped Mahādeva, Lord of Creatures, and beings of many forms joined in adoration. Fierce Rakshasas and mighty Pisachas, bold and many-formed, wielded weapons and arms. The god’s attendants, blazing like fire, stood ready, with the blessed Nandishvara among them by the god’s leave. There stood Ganga, the best of rivers, born from the sacred waters of all fords, worshipping the god in his form. Thus, the Blessed One was honored by gods and sages alike. Amidst these greatly fortunate gods, Mahādeva stood resplendent. Then, at a certain time, Daksha, the lord of creatures, appeared.