O King, listen well to the teachings on birth and the path of life. There are four stages of life, and it is through action that one enters each stage. Of these, the householder stage is considered the most meritorious, for from it both enjoyment and liberation arise—such is the view expressed. Hearing this, the wise King Janaka and the sage Yājñavalkya, after worshipping the god Varuṇa, addressed him again with reverence. They asked, “O best of gods, tell us: what is the land, and what is the sacred place that grants enjoyment and liberation? You know all—our salutations to you.” Varuṇa replied, “On earth, Bhārata is the land, and within it, Daṇḍaka is holy. In that field, actions performed bring both enjoyment and liberation to people. Among all sacred waters, the Gautamī Gaṅgā is supreme, granting liberation. There, through sacrifice and charity, one attains both worldly pleasures and spiritual release.” Having heard these words of Varuṇa, Yājñavalkya and Janaka, permitted by him, returned to their own city. There, King Janaka performed great sacrifices, including the Aśvamedha, with the illustrious brāhmaṇa Yājñavalkya as his officiating priest. Dwelling on the bank of the Gaṅgā, the king attained liberation through his sacrifices, just as many kings named Janaka before him had attained the same through right action. By the grace of the Gautamī Gaṅgā, many fortunate souls attained liberation, and from that time, the sacred place became known as Janasthāna. The sacrificial hall of the Janakas is called Janasthāna, stretching four yojanas. Simply by remembering it, all sins are destroyed. There, by bathing, giving gifts, offering oblations to ancestors, remembering the sacred place, journeying there, or serving with devotion, one attains all desires and ultimately liberation. Among rivers, Aruṇā and Varuṇā are most holy and auspicious, and their confluence with the Gaṅgā is supremely sacred. Now, hear the origin of that which destroys all sins: the Sun, eldest son of Kashyapa, renowned throughout the worlds, is the eye of the three worlds, sharp-rayed, drawn by seven horses, and honored by all. His wife is famed as Uṣā, daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ, the most beautiful in the three worlds. Unable to endure the intense heat of her radiant husband, Uṣā, slender-waisted and luminous, pondered what she should do. Her sons were the great kings Manu Vaivasvata and Yama, and the holy river Yamunā—indeed, a cause for wonder. Carefully, Uṣā created her own shadow, Chāyā, in her own form. She instructed Chāyā, “By my command, care for my husband and children. Until I return, be a beloved wife to my husband. Do not reveal this to anyone, especially concerning the children, dear one.” Chāyā agreed, and Uṣā departed from her home. Desiring tranquility, Uṣā swiftly went to her father Tvaṣṭṛ’s house and told him everything. Startled and affectionate, Tvaṣṭṛ said, “This is not proper for a married woman, to act on her own. What will become of your children and your husband, the Sun? I am afraid, dear one. I am constrained—return to your husband’s house.” But Uṣā, unmoved, refused and hastened to the northern land of the Kurus to practice austerity. There, taking the form of a mare, Uṣā performed severe austerities, her mind fixed on her beloved, the Sun, whom she could not bear to see. Meanwhile, Chāyā, taking Uṣā’s form, lived with her husband, and children were born: Sāvarṇi, Śani, and Viṣṭi, the latter a daughter of wicked disposition. Chāyā always showed partiality toward her own children. Among Uṣā’s children, Yama became angry with Chāyā, whom he thought his mother, because of her favoritism. Agitated by this injustice, Yama, lord of the southern quarter, struck Chāyā with his foot. In anger, she cursed him, “May your foot fall off by my command, you sinner!” Yama’s foot withered, and, weeping in pain, he went to his father, Savitṛ, and told him all that had happened. He said, “This is not my mother, O best of gods, for a mother does not curse her own child. Even when a child acts wrongly, a true mother does not become angry. If, in my childhood, I said or did something wrong, a mother would not react so. Therefore, this is not my mother. Whatever a child does—good or bad—is attributed to the mother; thus, she is called ‘mother.’ Yet she looks at me as if she would burn me with her gaze and speaks words as harsh as fire. This is not my mother.” Hearing his son’s words, Savitā thought, “This Chāyā is not his mother; Uṣā is his mother, but she is elsewhere. Desiring peace, devoted to austerity, the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ abides in the northern Kurus, taking the form of a mare.” Knowing where she was, the lord Sūrya went to where his beloved dwelled in the form of a mare, and he himself took the form of a horse. Seeing her in the form of a mare, he, as a stallion, pursued her. At the sound and sight of the lustful horse, Uṣā, devoted to her husband and deep in meditation on him, was frightened, not knowing who he was. She fled swiftly southward as he approached, thinking, “Who here will protect me—perhaps the sages or the gods?