In the sacred east, the sages, gods, ancestors, and the guardians of the worlds gathered and took up the auspicious water, making it renowned as the very best among all waters. As the waters flowed southward, they became the nurturing mothers of the worlds, born from the feet of Viṣṇu and devoted to Brahman, revered as the mothers of creation itself. Some of these divine waters found their place in the matted locks of Maheśvara, Shiva, originating at the sacred joints and celebrated for their auspicious beginnings. Simply remembering the power of these waters is said to grant all desires. Curious about this divine mystery, a devotee asked, “O lord, tell me how the goddess, who once resided in a water-pot and then entered Maheśvara’s matted locks, came to the world of mortals, as I have heard.” The wise one replied, “The waters held in Maheśvara’s matted locks are indeed divine, and their descent to earth happened in two distinct ways, owing to two different bringers.” “One portion was brought down by the brāhmaṇa Gautama, famed throughout the world, who achieved this through observance, charity, and deep meditation after worshipping Śiva. Another portion was brought by a mighty kṣatriya, who, after worshipping Śaṅkara with austerities and discipline, accomplished the same. King Bhagīratha, too, brought a portion of these waters. Thus, O best of sages, Gaṅgā became twofold in her earthly form.” “But for what reasons did Gautama and the kṣatriya bring down these waters from Shiva’s matted locks?” the devotee inquired further. The wise one promised, “I shall recount in detail how, in ancient times, whether by brāhmaṇa or another, these waters were brought to earth, for your satisfaction.” The story unfolds at the time when Umā became the beloved wife of the lord of gods, Shiva. At that very moment, Gaṅgā too became dear to Śaṃbhu. Desiring to purify himself and remove his faults, Shiva, together with Umā, looked upon the goddess Gaṅgā. Because Shiva abided in the essence of rasa—the supreme, blissful essence—he created the highest rasa, moved by his appreciation, affection, and purity. Among all, Gaṅgā became Shiva’s most beloved. Though she emerged from his matted locks for a particular purpose, Shambhu kept her concealed within his hair. Uma, knowing that Gaṅgā was held upon Shiva’s head, could not bear to see her remain there again and again. Out of indignation, Gauri said to Bhava, “Send her forth!” But Shambhu, a true connoisseur of rasa, did not release the supreme essence that was Gaṅgā. Reflecting on the situation, Uma spoke privately to Vinayaka, Jaya, and Skanda, saying, “This lord of the gods, enamored, does not abandon Gaṅgā; and she, being so dear to Shiva, how could she forsake her beloved today?” After much thought, Gauri addressed Vinayaka: “Neither gods, nor asuras, nor yakshas, nor siddhas, nor even you, nor kings or others, can compel the Lord to abandon Gaṅgā. I will undertake austerities again, or go to the supreme mountain Himavat; or, with pure brahmins cleansed of sin, I will perform penance. Perhaps, if they supplicate, Gaṅgā, who abides in the matted locks, might descend to earth.” Hearing his mother’s words, the remover of obstacles, Vinayaka, replied, “Let me consult with my brother Skanda and Jaya; this is fitting. Let us act so that my father releases Gaṅgā from his head.” Meanwhile, a terrible drought arose. For twenty-four years among mortals, a dreadful drought prevailed, striking fear into all living beings. The world of both moving and unmoving creatures was devastated. Yet, amidst this desolation, only the auspicious ashram of Gautama remained, fulfilling all desires. In former times, wishing to create both stationary and moving beings, I myself performed a great sacrifice there, and the mountain became renowned by my name—Brahmagiri—forever known as such. Upon this best of mountains, Gautama made his dwelling, his ashram supremely holy and ever auspicious. There, no afflictions, diseases, famine, drought, fear, grief, or poverty were ever heard of. Nowhere else, O son, was there offering or ancestral rite, nor giver, priest, or sacrificer, except in that ashram. Whenever sage Gautama offered gifts or oblations, at that very moment the gods would journey to heaven—this was the only way it happened. Even among the gods or mortals, sage Gautama was renowned as priest, giver, and enjoyer; all knew him as such. Hearing of this, all the sages dwelling in various hermitages came to visit Gautama’s ashram, seeking his blessing before departing. Gautama welcomed them with devotion, caring for them as he would disciples, sons, or fathers. He served each according to their wishes, in proper order and with respect to their needs. By Gautama’s command, the herbs—the mothers of the world—were worshipped anew, along with Brahma, Vishnu, and Maheshvara. These herbs were born, gathered, and flourished at that time, all by the strength of Gautama’s austerity. All his thoughts and wishes were fulfilled in abundance, and every day Gautama greeted the arriving sages with humility, asking, “What shall I do for you—as for sons, disciples, or servants?” For many years, he nourished them as a loving father. As the sages dwelt there, Gautama’s fame spread throughout the three worlds. Then, Vinayaka spoke to his mother, his brother, and Jaya, setting the stage for the next chapter in the descent of the sacred Gaṅgā.