After offering his respectful obeisance, the wise sage Gautama approached me and, with deep reverence, addressed me as the lotus-seated soul of the universe, bowing repeatedly in my presence. He said, “O Brahmā, I have circumambulated the entire earth, as is proper in this matter. O lord of gods, you know what is right.” Through the power of yogic meditation, I understood his intent and replied to Gautama: “This beautiful-browed maiden is given to you. Your circumambulation has been fulfilled.” I explained further, “O best of sages, dharma is truly subtle and difficult to comprehend, even with the wisdom of the Vedas. Surabhi, half-born, is the earth with her seven continents, and you have completed the circumambulation of that earth. Know that by circumambulating the liṅga, one attains the very same merit.” Pleased with his patience, knowledge, and austerity, I said, “O steadfast Gautama, I am pleased with your efforts.” Then, as the best among seers, I gave Ahalya, the most excellent maiden in all the worlds, to Gautama in marriage. When their wedding took place, the gods themselves arrived at the proper time, slowly gathering to witness the sacred circumambulation. They beheld Gautama and Ahalya, whose union brought great joy, and the gods marveled at what they saw. Once the ceremony was complete, the gods returned to their heavenly abodes, and Indra, lord of Śacī, also departed for heaven, having seen her. In my joy, I bestowed upon the great-souled Gautama the sacred Brahmagiri, a place that grants all desires and is supremely auspicious. There, Gautama, the best of sages, lived in happiness with Ahalya. When Indra in heaven heard the holy tale of Gautama’s virtue and fortune, he became curious. Desiring to see for himself, Indra took the form of a Brahmin and journeyed to Gautama’s hermitage, where he saw the sage, his virtuous wife, and their prosperity. But an evil intention stirred within Indra as he gazed upon Ahalya. Overcome by desire, Indra lost all sense of himself, of others, of place and time, and even of the fear of the sage’s curse. Constantly absorbed in meditation and proud of his supremacy among the gods, Indra’s body burned with longing as he wondered, “How can I enter? How can this come to pass?” Though he lingered in the form of a Brahmin, he found no opportunity. But one day, after Gautama had completed his morning rites, he left the hermitage with his disciples to inspect the fields, the Brahmins, and the grains. Seeing this, Indra realized the moment had come. He assumed Gautama’s form and, desiring pleasure, approached the beautiful-limbed Ahalya. Speaking sweet words, he said, “Drawn by your virtues, recalling your form, I stumbled in my steps.” Smiling, he took her hand and entered within. Ahalya, not recognizing the deception, believed him to be her husband Gautama, and she enjoyed his company as she pleased, while the real Gautama was away with his disciples. Whenever Indra came in disguise, Ahalya greeted him sweetly, spoke loving words, and pleased him with her virtues. However, when Gautama returned and did not see his wife, he was greatly surprised. O Nārada, all present saw the eminent sage standing at the door of his own house. The guardians and servants of the Agnihotra hall, frightened and amazed, spoke to Gautama: “O revered one, what is this marvel? You are seen both outside and inside. You have entered within with your beloved, and yet you remain outside. Ah, this must be the power of your austerity! You assume many forms.” Hearing this, Gautama was astonished. He entered his house and called out, “Who is here, dear Ahalya? Why do you not speak to me?” Hearing her husband’s voice, Ahalya turned to her lover and asked, “Who are you, disguised as a sage? You have committed a sin!” Frightened, she quickly rose from the bed. Indra, terrified of the sage’s wrath, transformed himself into a cat. Seeing his beloved wife now defiled and fearful, Gautama’s anger flared. He demanded, “What is this reckless act?” But Ahalya, ashamed, did not reply. Searching for the intruder, Gautama spotted the cat and asked, “Who are you?” Indra answered falsely, “May I be reduced to ashes.” But then, with hands joined in supplication, Śacī’s lord revealed himself: “I am Śacī’s husband, destroyer of cities, praised among men, O ascetic. This sin has befallen me; what I say is true, O sinless one. I have committed a most condemned act, O sage. O Brahman, those whose hearts are pierced by love’s arrows—what do they not do? Forgive me, ocean of compassion, though I am a great sinner.” The virtuous, even when wronged, never act harshly. Yet, hearing these words, the sage’s anger remained. He addressed Hari, saying, “Let the sin committed through devotion to Bhaga make you Sahasrabhaga.” In his anger, he also pronounced, “You shall become a dry river.” Ahalya then sought to appease her husband, describing the situation. He declared, “Those wicked women who even desire another man in their mind go to endless hells, and so do all their ancestors.” Eventually, Gautama’s anger subsided. He listened as Ahalya, speaking the truth, said, “These witnesses came to me, assuming your form.” The guardians agreed, saying, “So be it.” The sage, tranquil and knowing the truth through meditation, spoke to his devoted wife, bringing the episode to a close.