In ancient times, there was a place where the mighty Varuṇa, lord of the waters, was known to grant the highest wishes of the mind—he whom the sages praised as the giver of all. It was to this divine being that King Hariśchandra, yearning for a son, turned in supplication, following the counsel of learned sages. In time, Varuṇa was pleased with the king’s devotion and promised him a son, saying that the boon would be granted if the king would offer that very son in a sacrifice. Hariśchandra agreed to Varuṇa’s condition and prepared the sacred Varuṇa-offering. He presented it to his queen, and in due course, a son was born to them. As soon as the child entered the world, the lord of waters, eloquent among the gods, appeared and reminded Hariśchandra of his promise: the son must be sacrificed that very day. The king respectfully replied to Varuṇa, asking that the sacrifice be postponed until the child was at least ten days old and ritually pure. Varuṇa consented and departed, but when the ten days had passed, he returned and demanded the sacrifice. Again, the king pleaded, saying the child was still toothless and unfit for the rite; he requested that Varuṇa wait until the boy’s teeth had come in. Varuṇa agreed and departed once more. When the boy’s teeth finally appeared—seven years later—the lord of waters returned and pressed his demand. Hariśchandra argued that these were only milk teeth and would fall out, so the sacrifice should wait until the permanent teeth grew in. Varuṇa accepted this and left again. When the new teeth came in, Varuṇa returned, but the king replied that a true sacrificial animal, especially a Kshatriya, should be skilled in the science of archery to be the best of victims. Varuṇa once more returned to his own abode. When the boy, Rohita, became accomplished in weaponry and the sacred sciences, mastering the Vedas and all treatises, and when he reached the age of sixteen and was made crown prince, Varuṇa appeared again and demanded the fulfillment of the vow. With a heavy heart, the king summoned his priests in the presence of Rohita and Varuṇa. He called his son, saying, “Come, my son, great hero; I will sacrifice you to Varuṇa.” Rohita, startled, asked his father what was happening, and the king explained everything in detail while Varuṇa listened. Rohita, with resolve, addressed Varuṇa: “O lord of waters, together with the priests and chief priest, we will offer a pure and swift sacrifice to Viṣṇu, lord of the worlds, with an animal. Please allow this.” Hearing these words, Varuṇa’s anger flared, and he afflicted Hariśchandra with dropsy. Rohita, seeing his father stricken, took up his divine bow, mounted his chariot, and departed into the forest, his heart free from sorrow. He journeyed to the very place on the banks of the sacred Ganga where his father had once pleased Varuṇa and gained his birth. There, Rohita dwelled for five years. In the sixth year, news reached him of his father’s grave illness. He reflected, “What purpose is there in a son who, having been born, brings suffering to his father?” As he pondered on the riverbank, Rohita saw a group of sages, among them Ajigarta, a renowned seer, accompanied by his wife and three sons. The family was emaciated and despondent, their means of living exhausted. Rohita approached the sage, bowed, and asked, “Why do you appear so dejected, your livelihood diminished?” Ajigarta replied, “We have no means of sustenance, and I have many dependents. Without food, we will perish. Tell me, what should we do?” Rohita gently inquired, “What is in your mind? Tell me, best of speakers.” Ajigarta answered, “I have no gold, silver, cows, grain, or garments. I have nothing at all. I have only my sons and my wife; I am the fifth among them. None of these can be bought with food.” Rohita asked, “What do you wish to sell, O wise Ajigarta? Speak truly, for Brahmins are speakers of truth.” Ajigarta replied, “Of my three sons, or myself, or even my wife—take any one of us. By selling, we may live.” Rohita answered, “What use is a wife, or an old man like you? Give me your young son, whichever you desire.” Ajigarta said, “I will not sell you my eldest son, Śunahpuccha, nor does their mother wish to sell the youngest. Therefore, I will give you the middle one, Śunaḥśepa. State the price.” Thus, in the course of fate and sacrifice, the destinies of king, sage, and sons became entwined on the sacred banks of the Ganga.