In a land sanctified by the presence of the gods, there exists a holy place called Cakratīrtha. It was here that Viṣṇu himself once stood in deep reverence, worshipping the mighty Śaṃkara in order to obtain his divine discus. The greatness of this place is matched by another, known as Pippala, where Śaṃbhu was pleased by Viṣṇu’s devotion—a site so wondrous that even the lord of serpents cannot fully describe its glory. These sacred spots are named for the lord of the discus and the lord of Pippala, and their significance is proclaimed directly in the Vedas. In this hallowed region lived the renowned sage Dadhīci, a man of great virtue. His wife was wise, noble of lineage, and wholly devoted to her husband. She was called Gabhastinī, also known as Vaḍavā, and was the sister of the famed Lopāmudrā. Ever dear to Dadhīci, Gabhastinī practiced great austerities, while Dadhīci himself, blazing with spiritual fire, was steadfast in his duties as a householder. The sage made his home by the sacred Bhāgīrathī river. There, he welcomed gods and guests with devotion, found joy in his wife’s company, and lived in peace, like another Agastya. Owing to Dadhīci’s spiritual power, neither Nāras nor Daityas nor Dānavas dared approach the region of Agastya’s hermitage. It was in this tranquil haven that the gods assembled one day—the Rudras, Ādityas, the twin Aśvins, Indra, Viṣṇu, Yama, and Agni—having just vanquished the Daityas who threatened them. Exultant in their victory and praised by the Maruts, the lords of the gods bowed in respect before Dadhīci, recognizing him as the foremost among sages. Dadhīci, filled with joy, honored each god individually and, together with his wife, performed his duties as a gracious host. He inquired after their welfare, and the gods, pleased by his hospitality and the presence of his devoted wife, conversed with him. Seated and delighted in mind, the sage was honored repeatedly by their reverence. The gods then spoke: “O sage, what is difficult for us to obtain in this world, when compassionate sages like you live among men, as wish-fulfilling trees upon the earth? Truly, for all living beings, the highest fruits are the blessings of bathing in holy places, showing compassion to creatures, and beholding those such as yourself.” They continued, “We speak to you out of affection. Having conquered the Daityas and slain the foremost Rākṣasas, we have come here, joyful, especially upon seeing you. Yet, we are weary of bearing the burden of our weapons; this is not our purpose nor our reward. O lord of sages, we see no place to keep these weapons—should they remain in heaven, the enemies of the gods might seize them, as has happened before. Weapons taken below are lost in the netherworld. Therefore, we ask you, O bestower of honor, to keep our weapons in your holy hermitage. Here, under your protection, there is no danger—not from Dānavas nor from fierce Rākṣasas. By your command, this sacred place is safe, and none can match your austerity.” They explained further, “The enemies have been conquered, O knower of Brahman. The Daityas have been slain by us with these weapons; now, having served their purpose, these burdensome arms should be placed near you. We enjoy the pleasures of the Nandana garden with our beloveds, and then return to our own realms, leaving the weapons guarded.” Hearing these words, Dadhīci agreed, saying, “So be it.” Though his beloved wife tried to restrain him, he replied, “Why should one act against the purpose of the gods?” For those who know the scriptures and are devoted to the highest truth, who have lost attachment to worldly things, what concern have they for the misfortunes of others? Such sages, seeking no happiness here or hereafter, serve others selflessly. He continued, “Those who hate the gods pursue enmity, and when weapons are lost or taken, those responsible become enemies of the gods. Therefore, it is not right to claim what belongs to another; as long as there is friendship and the object remains, all is well, but if it is lost, enmity arises. If you have the power to give, you must give when asked—what is there to consider? Otherwise, the virtuous serve others with words, thoughts, and deeds.” Hearing her husband’s words, Gabhastinī remained silent, understanding that fate alone determines what is possible for men. The gods, having deposited their radiant weapons in the sage’s care, bowed to him and departed to their worlds, their purpose accomplished. Dadhīci, joyful and righteous, continued to dwell peacefully with his wife. A long time passed—a thousand divine years—during which the gods neither spoke nor thought of their weapons, nor did they act to reclaim them. One day, Dadhīci said to his virtuous wife, “O gentle one, the enemies of the gods now hate me. The gods do not wish to reclaim the weapons they left here—what should I do?” His wife replied respectfully, “You know what is proper, lord. The Daityas, grown powerful through austerity and strength, will surely seize the weapons.” To protect them, Dadhīci performed a sacred rite, sanctifying the weapons with mantras and holy waters. Then, imbued with the energy and merit of all the weapons, he drank the sanctified water, absorbing their power into his own body. As time passed, the weapons lost their potency and gradually perished. The gods, realizing the danger posed by their enemies, assembled and approached Dadhīci, saying, “A great peril has come upon us. Please, O eminent sage, return to us the weapons entrusted to you.” Dadhīci replied, “Out of fear of the enemies of the gods, and because you did not return soon, I have drunk the weapons—they now reside within my body. Let the gods declare what is proper for me to do.” Hearing this, the gods humbly addressed him: “O best of sages, we can only ask you to give us your weapons and your body, for without them, we will always be overpowered by our well-nourished foes. Where shall we go, O lord of sages? Today, there is no refuge for the gods in the mortal world, the underworld, or even in heaven. Only you, endowed with ascetic power, can decide what must be done.” Then Dadhīci declared, “Let the gods take weapons formed from my bones—there can be no doubt.” The gods, however, lamented, “What use is this to us? Bereft of weapons, O lord of gods, we have become powerless.” Once more, the eminent sage spoke: “I will abandon my bodily life, united with yoga. Let the supreme weapons, of excellent form, be fashioned from my bones.