When the Rākṣasas were dispatched to disrupt the sacred sacrifice, the gods declared, “Let these most wicked Rākṣasas be your enemies.” From that moment, enmity arose between the Rākṣasas and the gods. In response, the gods and the pure sages together manifested a magical mare. They consecrated her, declaring, “Be the wife of Mṛtyu (Death).” The water used in her consecration flowed forth and became the river known as Vaḍavā. At that place, Mṛtyu established a liṅga, which came to be revered as Mahānala. From then on, this holy site was called Vaḍavāsaṃgama. Wherever the god Mahānala resides, that sacred ground bestows both worldly enjoyment and liberation. On both banks of the Vaḍavā, a thousand holy places grant every desire, and remembrance of this site destroys all sins. This place is also known as Ātmatīrtha, the holy place of the Self, where people attain both enjoyment and liberation. Let me describe its greatness, for there dwells Śiva, Lord of Knowledge. He is also known as Datta, son of Atri, beloved of Hara, dear brother of Durvāsas, and master of all knowledge. Once, Datta approached his father Atri, bowed with humility, and asked, “How may I attain knowledge of Brahman? Whom should I approach, and where should I go?” Hearing his son’s earnest question, Atri meditated deeply and replied, “Go to the Gautamī, my son, and there offer your praises to Maheśvara. When he is pleased, you shall receive true knowledge.” Accepting his father’s words, Datta journeyed to the Gaṅgā, pure and self-restrained. With folded hands, he worshipped Śaṃkara with deep devotion, praying: “I have fallen into the well of worldly existence, covered by delusion and fate, sunk in the mire of suffering, and enveloped in the darkness of ignorance. O Lord of the gods, I cannot find the Supreme. I am wounded by the sharp trident, torn by the blade of sinful anxiety, scorched by the torments of the five senses, and exhausted. O Somanatha, rescue me. Bound by the chains of poverty, struck by the fierce fires of disease, overtaken by the serpent of death, I am filled with fear. O Shambhu, what shall I do? I am afflicted by existence and non-existence, by thirst and hunger, by passion and darkness, overwhelmed by decay and old age. O Lord, today behold my suffering with compassion. By desire, anger, envy, hypocrisy, pride, and many other faults, I am pierced and distressed. O Lord, like a protector, drive away my enemies. It is true that someone may remove the suffering of the fallen, but without you, O Somanatha, I find no compassion anywhere. So long as I do not utter ‘Salutations to Shiva,’ anger, fear, delusion, suffering, ignorance, poverty, disease, desire, and even death remain within me. I have no righteousness, no devotion, nor wisdom—how could I possess compassion? Therefore, O refuge, quickly place the word ‘Soma’ in my heart. I do not seek rulership over the gods; O Somanatha, let your auspicious lotus feet dwell in the lotus of my heart. Consider this and grant it. Though I am known to you as sinful, still hear my prayer. Wherever the name ‘Shiva’ is heard, O Somanatha, may my abode be there. O Lord of Gauri, Shankara, Somanatha, Lord of the universe, ocean of compassion, soul of all—wherever you are praised as ‘the true one,’ let the virtuous dwell there.” Upon hearing Atri’s heartfelt praise, the blessed Hara was pleased. He spoke to that yogi, “I am the giver of boons, the creator of the universe. To you I grant self-knowledge, liberation, abundant enjoyment, and the greatness of this holy place—a boon worshipped even by the gods.” Having spoken thus, Shambhu disappeared. From that time, the wise have known this place as the ‘self-holy place.’ By bathing and giving there, liberation is attained. Now, the Ashvattha holy place has been described, followed by the Pippala. Next, listen to the tale of Mandatirtha in the north, and its greatness. Long ago, the blessed Agastya, lord of the southern quarter, was sent by the gods to fulfill the request of the Vindhya mountain. Agastya, surrounded by a thousand sages, approached Vindhya, the chief of mountains, resplendent with countless trees and hundreds of peaks, rivaling even Meru and the Sun. The steadfast sage, lord of Lopamudra, beheld that lofty mountain. Welcomed as a guest by the twice-born, Agastya praised the mountain and then addressed it for the gods’ purpose: “I am going, O foremost of mountains, with sages who perceive the truth, on a pilgrimage to holy places; therefore, I proceed toward the southern direction. Grant me a path, O lord of mountains, and offer the hospitality I request; until I arrive, it is necessary for me to remain here.” Vindhya replied, “It cannot be otherwise for you.” Thus, accompanied by the sages, Agastya advanced toward the southern region. Eventually, he reached Gautamī, consecrated for a sacrificial session, and for a full year, he performed the sacrifice with the sages. At that time, the two evil sons of Kaitabha—the Rākṣasas named Ashvattha and Pippala, notorious in the abode of the gods for obstructing righteousness—sought to disrupt the sacrifice. Ashvattha assumed the form of an ashvattha tree, while Pippala took the form of a brahmin. Both, wicked in mind, adopted these forms: Ashvattha as a tree, Pippala as a brahmin. They continually tormented the brahmins, rich in austerity. Whoever approached Ashvattha, the tree would devour them. Pippala, posing as a singer of the Sāma Veda, consumed his disciples as a rakshasa; thus, it is said, even today among brahmins, a Sāmaga is exceedingly merciless. Seeing the brahmins being diminished, the sages realized these two were rakshasas, and the wise took refuge on the southern bank.