With unwavering devotion, Vishnu, the enemy of the demons, approached the worship of Umāpati—Lord Shiva—offering a hundred thousand golden lotuses, each fragrant and pure, as was his custom. As the worship progressed, a remarkable truth unfolded: among the thousand lotuses he had gathered for the ritual, one was missing. Determined not to let his worship falter, Vishnu, resolute and selfless, plucked out his own eye and offered it as arghya in place of the missing lotus. Taking the vessel for the sacred offering in his hand, he meditated deeply upon Shambhu, holding the thousand lotuses and his own eye, recognizing that he had no other refuge but Shiva. With a heart full of surrender, he offered the arghya, declaring, “O Lord, you alone know the innermost feelings of all beings; you alone are the true refuge and master—what need is there for further deliberation?” Tears streaming from his eyes, Vishnu fell prostrate in reverence. Moved by his devotion, Ishvara—Shiva—appeared before him, accompanied by Bhavani. Shiva embraced Vishnu warmly and, pleased with his devotion, granted him many boons. Vishnu’s discus, the Sudarshana Chakra, was restored to him as before, and his plucked eye was made whole again. In that sacred moment, all the hosts of gods assembled, praising both Hari (Vishnu) and Shankara (Shiva), as well as Ganga—the greatest of rivers—and Shiva, the bull-bannered god. From that time onward, the holy place became known as Cakra-tirtha, the pilgrimage spot of the discus. It is said that simply by hearing the story of this place, one is freed from all sins. Whoever bathes there, gives gifts, or offers oblations to their ancestors is cleansed of all sins and attains heaven with their forebears. Even today, the mark of the discus can be seen at that holy site. After Cakra-tirtha, the next sacred place is Pippala, where the Lord of the discus, Vishnu, regained his beloved weapon. It was at Cakra-tirtha that Vishnu himself stood and worshipped the mighty Shankara to recover his discus. Where Shiva became pleased with Vishnu is known as Pippala, a place of such greatness that even the lord of serpents cannot fully describe it. The names—lord of the discus and lord of Pippala—arose from these very events. Now, O Nārada, listen with devotion to what is directly declared in the Veda. There was a renowned sage named Dadhīci, virtuous and wise. His wife was famed for her wisdom, noble lineage, and devotion; she was Lopāmudrā, and her sister was Gabhastinī, also called Vaḍavā. Gabhastinī was ever dear to Dadhīci and performed great austerities, while Dadhīci himself, radiant with spiritual fire, was steadfast in his household duties. They resided by the sacred Bhāgīrathī river, devoted to welcoming gods and guests, delighting in each other’s company, and living in peace—Dadhīci, like another Kumbhayoni. Such was his spiritual power that neither Nāras nor Daityas and Dānavas dared approach that region, where Agastya’s hermitage also stood. One day, the gods—Rudras, Ādityas, the Aśvins, Indra, Vishnu, Yama, and Agni—assembled there, having just defeated the Daityas who had threatened them. Rejoicing in their victory, praised by the Maruts, the lords of the gods bowed respectfully to Dadhīci, the greatest of sages. Filled with joy, Dadhīci honored each god individually and, together with his wife, performed all the duties of a gracious host. After inquiring about his guests’ welfare, Dadhīci listened as the gods spoke affectionately to him. Seated before him, their minds delighted, they said, “O sage, what is difficult for us to obtain in this world, when compassionate sages like you exist—true wish-fulfilling trees upon the earth? This alone is the fruit for living beings: to bathe in holy places, to show compassion for all creatures, and to have the sight of sages like you. “What we say is out of affection. Having conquered the Daityas and slain the foremost Rākṣasas, we have come here. We are happy, especially upon seeing you. Yet, we cannot bear the burden of our weapons, nor is it fitting for us to keep them. We find no safe place to store them, for in heaven, enemies may seize them, and in the netherworld, they are taken away. Therefore, O bestower of honor, we ask to leave our weapons in your holy hermitage. “Here, there is no danger—not from Dānavas or fierce Rākṣasas. This sacred place is protected by your command and your unmatched austerity. Our enemies are vanquished, and the weapons, having fulfilled their purpose, should be placed near you, O lord of sages. We enjoy divine pleasures in the Nandana garden with our beloveds, and when our tasks are done, we return to our own realms, knowing our weapons are safe.” Hearing their request, Dadhīci replied, “So be it.” Though his beloved wife tried to restrain him, he said, “Why should one act against the purpose of the gods?” Those who know the scriptures and are devoted to the highest truth, who have renounced worldly attachments, have no concern for misfortune, seeking no happiness in this world or the next. He continued, “Those who hate the gods pursue enmity. When the weapons are lost or taken, the gods become angry, and those responsible become their enemies. Therefore, it is not right to claim ownership over another’s property. As long as there is friendship and the object remains, all is well, but when it is lost or taken, enmity arises. If you have the power to give, you must give to one who asks; otherwise, the virtuous serve others through words, thoughts, and deeds.” Hearing her husband’s words, his wife remained silent, understanding that fate alone governs what is possible for mortals. With their request granted, the gods deposited their radiant weapons in Dadhīci’s hermitage and departed, bowing to the sage, their task complete. Dadhīci, joyful and righteous, dwelt with his wife in peace. A long time passed—a thousand divine years—and the gods neither spoke nor thought about their weapons, nor did they act concerning them, content in their celestial abodes, while the sage’s hermitage remained the silent guardian of their mighty arms.