In battle, Pururavas displayed valor like Hari himself, and when angered, his wrath blazed like the sacrificial fire. When this great-souled son of Budha was being born, cries of victory resounded everywhere—even in the house of the gods. As Budha’s son arrived in the world, the lords of the gods gathered together to witness the event, and I too joined them, O wise one, filled with joy. No sooner had the child been born than he cried out with a loud voice, startling all the assembled sages and deities. Because his cry was so great, they all, with satisfied hearts, declared, “He shall be called Pururavas.” Thus, they gave him his name. Budha, his father, lovingly instructed Pururavas in the knowledge of kingship, and gifted him the Dhanurveda, along with its practical application. The boy grew swiftly, like the waxing moon. Yet, seeing his mother afflicted by sorrow, the wise and humble Pururavas bowed before Ila and gently spoke, “O mother, Budha is my father and your beloved husband. I am your dutiful son—why, then, do you suffer this mental anguish?” Ila replied, “Truly, son, Budha is my husband, and you are a treasure of virtues. I never have any worry caused by husband or son. Still, remembering some former sorrow, I think of it again and again, O great-minded one.” Thus she confided in him. “Mother, tell me that very first thing of mine,” Pururavas urged. Ila hesitated, “How can I speak this secret matter? Yet, my son, I will tell you. For parents sunk in the ocean of sorrow, a son is truly the supreme raft.” Hearing these words, Pururavas, humble and devoted, fell at her feet and pleaded, “Speak, mother, just as it is.” So Ila told Pururavas about the lineage of the Ikshvakus, her own birth there, her name, her attainment of the kingdom, and her beloved sons. She spoke of the family priest Vasistha, of her dear husband, her own position, her departure to the forest, and the ministers and priest. She recounted being sent from the city, her fondness for hunting, her journey to the caves of the Himalayas, and her stay in the house of the lord of the Yakshas. Ila narrated her entry into the grove of Uma, her complete transformation into womanhood, and the command of Maheshvara forbidding any man’s entry there. She also spoke of the words of the Yakshini, the granting of a boon, the coming of Budha, the joy at the birth of her son, and all else in detail. Having heard all this, Pururavas asked his mother, “What shall I do? By doing what will I attain merit? If you are satisfied with this, O mother, let it be enough; but if anything else is in your mind, command me in that as well. I desire the highest form of manhood, the supreme kingdom, the consecration of your sons, and especially yours. I wish to give gifts, perform sacrifices, contemplate the path of liberation, and accomplish all this by the grace of your son. I ask you, tell me the means by which manhood may be attained—whether by austerity or by some other way; speak to me the truth.” Ila replied, “Go, son, and ask your father, Budha, as it is proper; he knows everything and will instruct you for your benefit.” At his mother’s word, Pururavas went directly to his father, bowed in reverence, and spoke regarding his mother’s and his own purpose. Budha said, “I know Ila, O greatly wise one; I know Ila was born again, the entry into the forest of Uma, and likewise the command of Shambhu. Therefore, by the grace of Shambhu and the favor of Uma, the curse will be lifted, son, only by worshipping them—not otherwise.” Pururavas asked, “How may I see that god, or the mother Shiva? Is it through pilgrimage or austerity? Father, tell me first.” Budha instructed, “Go to Gautamī, son; there Shiva always resides, glorious, together with Uma, destroyer of curses and bestower of boons.” Hearing his father’s words, Pururavas was joyful. The wise one went to Gautamī for austerity, to the Ganges, purifier of the three worlds. Desiring manhood and urged by his mother, he hastened to perform austerity, bowing to the mountain Himavat, to his mother, father, and teacher. Ila, son of Soma, followed his son as he went; all of them reached Gautamī from the great mountain Himavat. There, after bathing and performing austerities, they offered supreme praise. Budha praised first, then Ila, and then Pururavas, the son, praised Gauri, the goddess, and Shankara. Those two, whose forms are like gold by nature, worshipped with saffron from their own bodies, Skanda and Ganesha—may those two, worthy of refuge, be my shelter. Those two Shankaras, whom embodied beings contemplate when burned by the threefold suffering of worldly existence, immediately attain supreme bliss—may they be my refuge. Pururavas prayed, “I am afflicted, my mind tormented; there is no other protector from distress, O god, than your two supremely holy feet—may those two, worthy of refuge, be my shelter.” He continued, “From whom all this arises and into whom, at the end, everything dissolves; Gauri and Hara, the refuge of the world, the essence of the universe—may they be my shelter. Those two feet, which at the great festival among the assembly of gods were grasped by the Lord, by Shiva out of affection at the request of the Daughter of the Mountain—may those feet, worthy of refuge, be my shelter.” Moved by their devotion, Shiva spoke, “Tell me, what boon do you desire? I will grant it to you. You have accomplished your purpose. Blessings to you! Even for the gods, this is difficult to achieve.