Adorned with a garland of forest flowers draped across his chest, his eyes wide and radiant as lotus petals, and the sacred mark of Śrīvatsa shining brilliantly on his breast, the king stood resplendent, crowned and ornamented with gleaming armlets. Thus arrayed, the lord of the people departed from his own city of Ujjayinī, surrounded by a great and mighty force, attended by his loyal retinue and priests. All the charioteers, armed and ready, followed him in splendid chariots that seemed like celestial vehicles, each adorned with fluttering banners and flags. Alongside them rode the horsemen, each bearing spears and maces, mounted on steeds as swift as the wind, faithfully accompanying their sovereign. The procession was further graced by mighty elephants, born in the Himalayas, massive and intoxicated, their curved tusks gleaming. These sixty-year-old giants, fierce and always in rut, wore golden armor and were adorned with banners and the melodious sound of bells, each guided by expert elephant warriors. Countless foot soldiers marched in formation, carrying bows, spears, and swords. They wore divine garlands and garments, their bodies anointed with heavenly fragrances. These were young men, their earrings polished and bright, skilled in every weapon, valiant and ever eager for battle, loyally following their king. Within the royal procession also traveled the women of the inner chambers, fully adorned, their lips red as bimba fruit, their teeth beautiful and shining, each draped in every ornament. They wore divine garments and celestial garlands, their bodies perfumed with heavenly scents, their faces radiant as the autumn moon. With slender waists, charming attire, and lovely curled hair, their mouths reddened by betel, they rode in vehicles both high and low, each bright and adorned with jewels and gold, accompanied by singers and reciters of praises, all well-guarded by attentive attendants. Surrounded by armed guards with eyes as long as lotus petals, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, and Vaishyas too joined the king’s grand procession. Merchant guilds and groups from various towns came as well, bringing their wealth, jewels, and gold, accompanied by their wives and households. There were sellers of weapons, betel, grass, and wood, those who made their living upon the stage, as well as sellers of meat, oil, and cloth. Fruit vendors, leaf sellers, porters, and washermen by the thousands joined the throng. Cowherds, barbers, tailors, shepherds of sheep and goats, keepers of deer and swans—all followed. Sellers of grain, parched flour, jaggery, and salt mingled with singers, dancers, reciters of auspicious hymns, actors, storytellers, and those skilled in the meanings of ancient tales. Poets and creators of verse, poison-curers, experts in Garuda lore, examiners of gems, metalworkers, coppersmiths, makers of bronze, goldsmiths, silk-weavers, painters, potters, and fire-workers—all walked in the great train. Stick-makers, sword-makers, brewers, wrestlers, messengers, scribes, weavers, image-makers, artisans, oil-pressers, sellers of fried grain, fowlers, and those who lived by wild animals and birds were there as well. Elephant doctors, physicians, healers of humans, trees, and cows, and those skilled in cutting and cauterizing, all joined the assembly. Every kind of townsman, and many others unmentioned, followed the king—indeed, all the inhabitants of the city. Just as eager sons follow their father when he journeys to another village, so too did the people of Ujjayinī follow their beloved king. Thus, surrounded by all these great and noble people—elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry—the illustrious king proceeded slowly on his way. Traveling thus, the king and his vast retinue journeyed for a long time until they reached the southern shore of the ocean. There, he beheld the magnificent sea, shimmering and beautiful, as if dancing, its surface crowded with countless hundreds of thousands of waves. The ocean was filled with many kinds of gems, teeming with living creatures, abundant with waves and billows, and full of wondrous sights. It was the king of sacred fords, resounding with a mighty roar, boundless and fearsome, resembling a mass of clouds, unfathomable, and home to the makaras. Within its depths dwelled fish, turtles, conches, oysters, crocodiles, spikes, porpoises, crabs, and great venomous serpents. This was the salt ocean, the resting place of Hari, lord of rivers, destroyer of all sins, holy and bestower of all desires. Profound with countless whirlpools, it was the refuge of the Dānavas, the churning rod for nectar, divine, the source of the gods, and the lord of waters. Distinguished among all beings, it sustained living creatures, supremely pure among the pure, auspicious among the auspicious. It was the foremost of sacred fords, imperishable, lord of aquatic beings, whose extent is fixed like the waxing and waning of the moon. Impenetrable to all, it was the abode of immortality for the gods, eternal cause of creation, preservation, and destruction. Beholding this lord of rivers and streams, source of merit for all, the best of kings was filled with utmost wonder. There, upon the holy and delightful shore of the ocean, in a land blessed with every virtue of the earth, the king made his dwelling.