In the midst of a grand royal festival, joy blossomed throughout the land. People from every walk of life felt nourished and uplifted, and even the ascetics who had attained perfection and the long-lived sages joined in the celebration. Never before had such a sacrifice, so rich in wealth and grain, been witnessed. The king, following the proper rites, completed the horse sacrifice and the construction of the Vaiṣṇava temple, marking an event unique in its grandeur and devotion. Amidst this splendor, the sages approached the Lord of gods with a question from ancient times. They yearned to know: how were those images of the deity once fashioned by King Indradyumna? By what means did Mādhava become pleased with him? Their curiosity was deep, and they requested the full account. The Lord responded, inviting them to listen to the ancient tale, one that aligned with the Vedas. He promised to narrate the events as they had unfolded and reveal the origin of the sacred images. When the great sacrifice commenced and the temple was built, King Indradyumna became consumed with anxiety, day and night, over the creation of the images. He pondered, “By whom might I see the Lord of gods, the purifier of all, the creator, sustainer, and destroyer of the worlds, the Supreme Person?” His mind was restless; he found no sleep, neither by day nor night. Pleasures held no allure for him—he did not bathe or adorn himself, nor did he enjoy music, fragrances, singing, or vibrant colors. Even elephants intoxicated with rut, fine horses, sapphires, blue gems, rubies, gold, silver, and other precious stones adorned with diamonds and crystal brought him no delight. The king’s heart remained unmoved by objects of passion and desire, by wild creatures or those dwelling in the sky. He wondered, “Among stones, clay, and wood found on earth, what is praised as suitable for the form of Viṣṇu, bearing all auspicious marks?” Of these three, the one beloved and worshipped by the gods, when established, brings joy. Thus, he became absorbed in this thought, seeking the most fitting material for the divine image. Following the Pañcarātra method, King Indradyumna worshipped the Supreme Person, immersing himself in contemplation and praise. He offered heartfelt salutations to Vāsudeva, the cause of liberation, praying for protection from the ocean of birth and worldly existence. He saluted the Supreme Person, whose appearance was pure, and Saṃkarṣaṇa, bearer of the earth. He praised the one whose radiance was golden, who was Makaradhvaja, beloved of Rati, and destroyer of obstacles. He honored the Lord whose hue was like collyrium, the cherisher of devotees, Aniruddha, bestower of boons. He continued, saluting the abode and beloved of the gods, Nārāyaṇa, seeking refuge and protection. He praised the foremost among the strong, wielder of the plough, four-faced foundation of the world, ancestor of all. He honored the Lord whose form was like a dark cloud, worshipped by the gods, and Viṣṇu, Lord of the universe, asking for rescue from the ocean of worldly existence. He addressed the fiery form of dissolution, destroyer of demons, Narasiṃha of great valor, and prayed for protection. Recalling the ancient act when the Lord lifted the earth from the netherworld with His tusk, the king invoked the Great Boar to save him from the ocean of suffering. He praised all the forms of Kṛṣṇa, bestowers of boons, beginning with Baladeva, acknowledging their distinct existence. The king recognized that the Lord’s limbs were Garuḍa and others, and the guardians of the directions with their weapons, those beginning with Keśava and also Acyuta. He acknowledged all other forms spoken of by the wise, affirming that the Lord of the universe with gracious eyes was present in all. Having worshipped and praised all these forms, the king sought a boon that would bestow righteousness, desire, wealth, and liberation. He described the forms beginning with Saṃkarṣaṇa, established for worship, and recognized that in ultimate reality, there was no division in Hari. All the various forms spoken of were only figurative, for the Lord is non-dual, all-pervading, of the nature of consciousness, and without stain. He reflected that the supreme form of the Lord was beyond existence and non-existence, untouched, without qualities, highest, unchanging, immovable, and eternal. Free from all limiting conditions, established solely in pure being—that form even the gods do not know; how then could he know it? He described another form: adorned in yellow garments, with four arms holding conch, discus, and mace, crowned and wearing armlets, marked with the Śrīvatsa on the chest, and garlanded with forest flowers. This form is worshipped by the wise and all who seek refuge. The king prayed to the God of gods, best among the gods, giver of fearlessness to devotees, to save him, the lotus-eyed one, from the ocean of sense-objects. He saw no other to whom he could turn for refuge, except the beloved of Lakṣmī, and pleaded for grace from the slayer of Madhu. He confessed his afflictions: beset by old age and disease, oppressed by sorrows, caught between joy and grief, deluded and tightly bound by karma. He acknowledged that he had fallen into the dreadful, terrible ocean of worldly existence, hard to cross, with poisonous waters, teeming with the fish of passion and aversion. The whirlpools of the senses, waves of craving and sorrow, and lack of support or foundation made it utterly unstable and devoid of essence. Deluded by Māyā, he wandered for a long time, being born again and again in thousands of different kinds of existence. Thus, King Indradyumna, with a heart full of devotion and longing, prayed to the Supreme Person, seeking guidance and liberation, as he strove to establish the most fitting image for the Lord in his temple.