In a blessed kingdom ruled by a wise and noble king, there was neither suffering nor disease, no famine nor discord among kin. While he reigned, no one was ever separated from those they loved. Yet, even in this realm of peace, the king longed for a son. With this desire in his heart, he performed a great sacrifice, and the blessed Lord, pleased with his devotion, offered him a boon of his choosing. It was on the banks of the sacred Gautami river that the god Maheshvara—Lord Shiva—appeared before the king. Accompanied by his wife, the king humbly asked Bhava for the gift of a son. Pleased by their devotion, Bhava said, “Behold my third eye.” The king, honored and awed, beheld the divine eye of Bhava. From its radiant light, a son was born—Mahima—who would one day compose the celebrated Mahimna Stotra in praise of Shiva. Indeed, when the blessed Tripurāntaka is pleased, what cannot be attained? Even Hari, Brahma, and the gods themselves follow in his path. Having received the boon of a son, the king made another request: that the holy tirtha, for the sake of those suffering from great sins, terrible diseases, or calamities, be granted supremacy among sacred places. Bhava, ever compassionate, granted this wish, making the place preeminent for the fulfillment of all desires of those afflicted by misfortune. Thus, it came to be known as Bhavatirtha. There, by bathing and giving in charity, all wishes are fulfilled by Bhava’s grace—just as Pracinabarhi obtained a son. Mahima himself was born on the banks of the Gautami, at the very site called Bhavatirtha, where seventy sacred bathing places confer every blessing. Among the learned, it is also known that there is a tirtha called Sahasrakunda. Merely remembering this holy place brings happiness to the heart. Long ago, after building a bridge across the great ocean, Rama, son of Dasharatha, burned Lanka and conquered his enemies, Ravana and his kin, in battle with his mighty arrows. When the war was won, Rama approached Vaidehi—his beloved Sita—as the guardians of the worlds watched, and her teacher stood before her. In the presence of Lakshmana, Rama addressed Sita, who had proved her purity in the fire: “Come, Vaidehi, you are pure; you deserve to ascend my lap.” Yet Angada and Hanuman, ever loyal, spoke up: “No, let us all return to Ayodhya together with Vaidehi and our friends.” So, before the eyes of brothers, mothers, and all people, the princess was publicly declared pure. On an auspicious day in Ayodhya, Rama reaffirmed that she deserved to sit upon his lap—who could doubt her conduct? Still, rumors among the people lingered, especially among their own. Disregarding such words, Lakshmana and Vibhishana took action. Rama and Jambavan called for Sita, and as the gods blessed her, she ascended the king’s lap. Filled with joy, they departed swiftly in the splendid Pushpaka Vimana, and upon reaching Ayodhya, they reclaimed their kingdom. All lived in happiness, ever devoted to Rama. But soon, from ignoble lips, a cruel and false accusation arose against Sita. Though the charge was baseless, Rama, upholding the honor of his house, abandoned her—for noble families cannot endure even false reproach. Near the hermitage of the sage Valmiki, Lakshmana, weeping as he went, left the innocent and grieving Sita behind. He did so out of fear, for the commands of elders cannot be disobeyed. Some days passed. Then Rama, together with Saumitri (Lakshmana), was initiated for the great horse sacrifice. At that time, Rama’s illustrious sons, Lava and Kusha—renowned for their melodious voices like the singing sages Narada and the Gandharvas—arrived. They sang the entire Ramayana, recounting all of Rama’s deeds, and approached the sacrificial ground, their virtues shining. These heroic sons, known as Vaidehi’s children, were brought forth and consecrated in due order. Rama, overcome with emotion, placed them on his lap, embracing them again and again. For those suffering the sorrows of worldly existence, for the lost among embodied beings, the embrace of one’s children is the greatest comfort. Rama caressed and kissed his sons repeatedly, finding peace in their presence. Yet, as he sat lost in thought, sighing deeply, the Rakshasas of Lanka arrived. Sugriva, Hanuman, Angada, Jambavan, and all the Vanaras, led by Vibhishana, came to see Rama. They approached the king on his throne, but not seeing Sita, Hanuman and Angada, adorned with golden armlets, were troubled. They asked, “Where has Mother Sita, born of the earth, gone? Only Rama is here.” The gatekeepers replied, “She has been abandoned by Rama.” As the guardians of the worlds looked on, and Sita’s name was spoken, she entered the fire for purification—yet Rama remained unmoved. Because of the words of the people, Rama had abandoned his beloved. The Vanaras, filled with grief, said, “Let us die,” and returned to the Gautami. Rama, along with the people of Ayodhya, followed them. Arriving at the Gautami, they engaged in supreme austerity. Remembering Sita again and again, sighing, they longed for the mother of the world, having renounced all attachment to worldly life, eager to serve at the Gautami. Rama, lord of the three worlds, came with his brother. After bathing in the sacred Gautami, he devoted himself to the worship of Shiva. Surrounded by thousands, he cast off all sorrow. The very place where these events unfolded became known as Sahasrakunda, forever sanctified by their presence and devotion.