The wise one looked upon me and said, “You are weak.” But with confidence, he declared, “By your strength, O best of birds, I will defeat all the demons.” Having spoken thus, the Lord of fortune, his anger now calmed, turned to Brahma and said, “Quickly, place your little finger near Nandi.” Following this, the Lord placed his finger on Garuda’s head and said, “It is true that you always carry me. Now, O bird, witness the righteousness at play.” The moment the divine finger touched Garuda’s head, a wondrous transformation took place: Garuda’s head sank into his belly, his belly into his foot, and he was utterly crushed by the weight. Overcome with distress, shame, and pain, Garuda, with palms joined in supplication, cried out, “Save me, save me, Lord of the universe! I am your servant and have offended you. You are the master of all worlds, the supporter and the one to be supported.” In his agony, Garuda continued, “O mighty Lord, you forgive thousands of offenses. Even when someone has committed a fault, your compassion is boundless. All the sages proclaim you alone to be the very embodiment of compassion, O Kamala, lotus-dwelling mother of the world. Protect me, your helpless and distressed child, O you who cherish your offspring.” Moved by his plea, the goddess Śrī herself, filled with compassion, spoke to Janārdana, saying, “Protect your servant Garuḍa, O Lord, for he has fallen into misfortune.” Hearing this, Janārdana turned to Nandi, the bearer of Śaṃbhu, and instructed, “Bring the serpent along with Garuḍa before Śaṃbhu. By his grace, when Garuḍa is seen by Maheśvara, he will regain his own form.” Nandi, accepting the command, replied, “So be it.” Together with the serpent and Garuḍa, he made his way slowly to Śaṃkara and reported all that had transpired. Śaṃkara, crowned with the crescent moon, then addressed Garutmant, “Go to the sacred Gaṅgā, to the Gautamī, purifier of the worlds and fulfiller of all desires. After bathing in her tranquil waters, you shall regain your true form.” He promised further, “You will obtain all your desires, a hundredfold and a thousandfold. Those scorched by sin, whose efforts are thwarted by misfortune, will find their wishes fulfilled. For them, O bird, Gautamī is the refuge.” Hearing these words, Garuḍa bowed respectfully and went to the Gaṅgā. There, he bathed and offered salutations to both Śiva and Viṣṇu. Restored, the golden-winged bird—his body like thunder, of great strength and swiftness—wisely returned to Viṣṇu. From that time on, that sacred place became known as Gāruḍa, a site where all desires are granted. Whatever ritual, bathing, or act is performed there with devotion, O child, becomes imperishable, beloved of both Śiva and Viṣṇu. Then, Govardhana, that holy place, was revealed to destroy all sins, to generate merit for one’s ancestors, and, even by simple remembrance, to remove sin. Such is its power, O Nārada, as I have witnessed. There was once a brāhmaṇa farmer named Jābāli. He was so absorbed in his work that he did not release the yoke from his oxen even when the sun blazed overhead, striking them with his goad on their backs and sides. Surabhi, the wish-fulfilling cow and mother of the world, saw two cows with tears in their eyes and, troubled, told everything to Nandi. Nandi, distressed by their suffering, reported it to Śaṃbhu. Śaṃbhu said to the bull, “Let all your words be fulfilled.” With Śiva’s command, Nandi brought forth all that was born of cows. Soon, all the cows vanished from heaven and earth, and urgency spread everywhere. The hosts of gods came to me, saying, “Without cows, life cannot be sustained.” I told the gods, “Go to Śaṃkara and petition him.” So, all the gods praised the Lord and expressed their concern. The Lord replied, “Nandi knows my will.” The gods then appealed to the bull, “Give us the cows, O benefactor.” The bull answered, “Let a sacrifice called Gosava be performed.” He explained, “By this sacrifice, you will obtain all cows, both celestial and earthly. Thus, the Gosava sacrifice, established by the gods, began.” By the auspicious banks of the Gautamī river, cows multiplied abundantly, and so Govardhana became a sacred place, increasing the joy of the gods. O best of sages, bathing there grants the merit of donating a thousand cows, and the results of gifts and other acts performed there are beyond measure. There is also a sacred place called Pāpapraṇāśana, the destroyer of sin and fear of evil. Let me tell you its story, O Nārada. There lived a renowned Brahmin named Dhṛtavrata, famous in the world, and his wife Mahī, a young woman of great beauty. Their son, radiant like the sun, was named Sanājjāta. But Death, prompted by time, took Dhṛtavrata away. Left a young widow with a small child and no protector, Mahī went to the hermitage of Gālava. She entrusted her son to him, but, overcome by sin and desire, she wandered many lands, seeking men and indulging her passions. Her son, raised in Gālava’s house and learned in the Vedas, nevertheless—due to his mother’s conduct—developed the mind of a pleasure-seeker. He dwelled in Janasthāna, a place filled with people of all kinds, and there, disguised as a merchant, Mahī also lived. Her son, too, wandered many lands in search of pleasure, and by fate, both mother and son resided in Janasthāna. Dhṛtavrata’s son, though twice-born, desired a courtesan, while Mahī sought wealth and men who would give her gifts. Neither recognized the other: he did not see her as his mother, nor did she know him as her son. By the force of fate, they were united as lovers, mother and son. Thus, they lived together for some time, neither realizing the bond between them. Yet, as time passed, a good thought arose in the son, despite his improper conduct. Listen, O Nārada, to this remarkable tale.