On the northern bank of the sacred Ganga, there is a renowned tīrtha called Piśāca, so named because of its association with piśāca spirits. It was here, O wise one, that a Brahmin once attained liberation, despite the place’s fearsome reputation. In the world, there lived a man named Jīgarti, the son of Suyavasya. He was burdened by the hardships of family life and afflicted by famine. Driven by desperation, he committed a grievous act: he sold his middle son, Śunaḥśepa, who was the best among those who knew Brahman, to a kshatriya for slaughter, in exchange for a great sum of wealth. It is said that in calamity, even the learned may fall into sin. Jīgarti, though a sage, accepted wealth for the role of pacifying the ritual, and thus became the lowest of Brahmins, dividing his family for profit. As a result, he was afflicted by incurable, severe diseases. When his time came and he died, he was cast into hell; the consequences of his sins seemed endless, except for the enjoyment of their results. By the command of Yama and his servants, Jīgarti passed through many different wombs, and eventually became a dreadful piśāca, terrifying in form. Yama’s servants cast him into desolate places: dry woods, forests without water, scorched by the heat of summer, suffering greatly. Those who sell daughters, sons, land, horses, or cows do not return from hell until the dissolution of the world. Tormented by his own evil deeds, Jīgarti was cooked in a mass of suffering, loudly weeping and remembering what he had done. One day, as he wandered the road, Śunaḥśepa, the middle son of Jīgarti, heard the voice of the piśāca weeping. At that moment, the sins of selling a son, of killing a Brahmin, and of Jīgarti the father weighed heavily upon them. Śunaḥśepa called out, “Who are you, so greatly afflicted?” Jīgarti replied in misery, “I am Śunaḥśepa’s father.” He confessed, “Having performed a most sinful act, I have attained a dreadful birth; cooked in hell, I have again reached an intermediate state. Such is the fate of all who commit evil deeds.” Śunaḥśepa, distressed, said to his father, “O father, it is by my own fault that, having sold me, you have thus reached hell. Therefore, I will now make you attain heaven.” Resolving thus, Śunaḥśepa, the son of Gādhi and a foremost sage, set out to attain the highest worlds for his father. He meditated on the Ganges, knowing that for embodied beings scorched by endless suffering and sinking in the ocean of delusion, there is no other support in the three worlds except the feet of Viṣṇu. With this conviction, the great-souled sage, wishing to rescue his father, quickly went to the Gautamī (Godāvarī), bathed there, and remembered Śambhu and Viṣṇu. He offered water to his father, who was in the form of a preta, a piśāca, and greatly distressed. By that very act, Jīgarti was instantly purified and attained a most auspicious form. Endowed with a celestial vehicle and attended by hosts of gods, Jīgarti attained the abode of Viṣṇu by the power of his son, the sanctity of the Ganges, and the grace of Hari, Śambhu, and the Creator. He shone with the brilliance of ten thousand suns. From that time, this tīrtha became famous: it destroys piśācas, cures great diseases, and quickly removes even the gravest sins by mere remembrance. Thus, the greatness of this tīrtha, where three hundred tīrthas and others bestow enjoyment and liberation, is beyond words. It is declared that this place grants all accomplishments; the three hundred sacred sites cherished by sages here bestow desired results even by mere remembrance. Nearby, on the northern bank of the Ganges, lies Nimnabheda, famed throughout the three worlds for destroying all sins. By merely remembering it, all sins are destroyed; and seeing Vedadvīpa there, one becomes learned in the Vedas. It was here that King Aila, supremely righteous, desired Urvaśī. Who would not be captivated by her intoxicating eyes? She departed to the place where the king had consumed a small portion of clarified butter, having set a time for her appearance after the ritual of fire-viewing. He made her his own, a delightful and ever-youthful maiden. While she slept upon the bed, Purūravas arose from her side. Seeing him unclothed, she immediately departed; for steadfastness is rare in women, whose minds flicker like lightning. Astonished and unclothed, he gazed upon her that night. Meanwhile, the king went forth to battle against his enemies. Having conquered them, he returned again to the honored realm of the gods, and upon his return, received guidance from Vasiṣṭha, the chief priest. Hearing of Urvaśī’s departure, King Aila was overcome with sorrow; he neither offered sacrifices, nor ate, nor listened, nor saw. The chief priest awakened the noble king, who seemed as if dead, with wise words. “She is dead now, O great-minded king; do not grieve. In such a state, let not inauspicious swift forces touch you. You do not know the hearts of women, O wise king; they are like those of jackals. Therefore, do not sorrow. Who in this world, O king of kings, has not been deceived by women? Deceitfulness, cruelty, fickleness, and cunning are their nature. Such is their inherent nature; how can they be sources of happiness? Who has not been ruined by time? Who, seeking honor, has attained it? Who has not been led astray by fortune, or harmed by women? For those whose minds are intoxicated, reality is like a dream or illusion, O king. For whom are women a source of happiness? Knowing this, be free from fever, O wise king. Apart from Śaṃkara, Viṣṇu, or the Ganges, there is no other refuge for the sorrowful in the three worlds.” Hearing this, the king diligently overcame his sorrow. Aila, supremely righteous, remained in the midst of the Ganges, finding solace and wisdom in its sacred embrace.