In the sacred land, there is a renowned sacrificial hall belonging to the Janakas, known as Janasthāna. This holy place stretches for four yojanas, and such is its spiritual potency that even remembering Janasthāna cleanses one of all sins. Those who bathe there, offer gifts, make oblations to their ancestors, remember the sanctity of the site, visit it in person, or serve it with devotion, are granted the fulfillment of all desires—and, ultimately, liberation itself. In this region, the rivers Aruṇā and Varuṇā flow, both supremely holy and auspicious. Their confluence with the sacred Gaṅgā is held as the most sanctified spot, O best of sages. Now, listen to the wondrous tale of their origin, which is said to destroy all sins. The Sun, eldest son of Kashyapa and famed throughout the worlds, is the very eye of the three realms. His rays are sharp, and he is drawn across the sky by seven horses, honored by all beings. His wife is the celebrated Ushā, the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ, renowned as the most beautiful woman in the three worlds. Yet, Ushā found herself unable to bear the Sun’s intense heat. The slender-waisted and radiant lady pondered deeply, wondering what she should do. Her sons were the great Manu Vaivasvata and Yama, and her daughter was the holy river Yamunā. Listen now to the marvel behind these tales. With great care, Ushā fashioned her own shadow, creating it in her exact likeness. She spoke to this shadow, named Chāyā, instructing her: “By my command, care for my husband and my children. Until I return, be a loving wife to my husband. But above all, do not reveal this secret to anyone, especially regarding the children.” Chāyā agreed, saying, “So be it,” and Ushā departed from her home. Longing for peace, Ushā went swiftly to the house of her father, Tvaṣṭṛ, and confided everything to him. Tvaṣṭṛ, startled and affectionate toward his daughter, admonished her gently: “This is not fitting for a married woman, to act of her own accord. What will become of your children and your husband, the Sun? I am troubled, dear one. I am bound by dharma—return to your husband’s house.” Despite her father’s words, Ushā refused to return and instead hastened to the northern land of the Kurus, where she resolved to undertake severe austerities. There, taking the form of a mare, she fixed her mind on her beloved, the Sun, though she could not bear to see him. Meanwhile, Chāyā, assuming Ushā’s form, lived with the Sun as his wife, and bore him children: Sāvarṇi, Śani, and Viṣṭi, a daughter of ill nature. Chāyā’s affection was partial, favoring her own children over Ushā’s. Among Ushā’s sons, Yama grew angry at Chāyā, whom he believed to be his mother, because of her clear favoritism. Agitated by this injustice, Yama, lord of the southern quarter, struck Chāyā with his foot. In response, Chāyā cursed him, declaring, “May your foot fall off by my command, you sinner!” At her word, Yama’s foot withered. In pain and grief, he went to his father, Savitṛ, and recounted all that had occurred. Yama pleaded, “This is not my mother, O best of gods, for a true mother does not curse her own children, even if they act wrongly. If, as a child, I erred in word or deed, a mother would not become angry. Therefore, this cannot be my mother. Whatever a child does, good or bad, is attributed to the mother; that is why she is called ‘mother.’ Yet she always looks at me as if to burn me with her gaze, and her words are as harsh as fire—surely, this is not my mother.” Hearing his son’s words, Savitā reflected: “This Chāyā is not Yama’s true mother. Ushā is his mother, but she is elsewhere. She seeks peace and performs austerity in the land of the northern Kurus, the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ, now in the form of a mare.” Realizing this, the Sun, Sūrya, went in search of his beloved. He took the form of a horse and traveled to where Ushā, as a mare, dwelled. Seeing her in that form, he approached as a stallion. The neighing of the lustful horse startled Ushā, who, devoted to her husband and lost in meditation, did not recognize him. Frightened, she fled swiftly southward, seeking protection from sages or gods. The mare, pursued by the horse, crossed the Bhāgīrathī and other rivers, traversed forests and groves, and even crossed the Narmadā and the Vindhya mountains, always fleeing in fear. Eventually, the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ reached the Gautamī river. It is said that the sages are protectors in Janasthāna, and so she, still in mare form, entered the hermitage of the sages on the banks of the Gautamī. There, the horse—Bhānu, the Sun himself—arrived. The young sages of Janasthāna tried to restrain the horse. Angered by their interference, the lord of Ushā cursed them: “Because you restrain me, you shall become fig trees.” But by their vision of knowledge, the sages realized the horse was none other than the lord of Ushā himself. Joyfully, they praised Bhānu, lord of gods and lords. Thus honored, Bhānu approached the mare, and their mouths joined. In that moment, Ushā recognized her husband, and from her mouth she emitted seed. By the union of their seed, the divine twins, the Aśvins, were born in the sacred Gaṅgā. At that wondrous birth, hosts of gods, siddhas, sages, rivers, cows, herbs, deities, and luminous beings all gathered, celebrating the divine event.