In the midst of a beautiful forest, the wide-eyed apsaras wandered, marveling at the abundance of fruit-laden trees all around her. She beheld mangoes, wild mangoes, splendid coconuts, tindukas, bilvas, jīvas, pomegranates, and countless seed-filled fruits. Jackfruits, lakucas, nīpas, and the lovely sirīṣas caught her eye, along with pigeons, kolas, arimedas, and the sour vetasas. She saw bhallātakas, āmalakas, śataparṇas, kiṃśukas, iṅgudas, karavīras, harītakis, and vibhītakas—all flourishing in their natural glory. As she walked, her gaze fell upon aśoka, puṃnāga, ketakī, and bakula trees, each radiant in their own way. She admired the pārijāta, kovidāra, mandāra, indīvara, pāṭala, and other trees, heavy with blossoms, as well as the majestic devadāru. There were śāla, tāla, tamāla, nicula, lomaka, and many other excellent trees, their branches weighed down by fruits and flowers. The forest was alive with creatures: chakora birds, lotuses, the king of bees, parrots, cuckoos, kalavingkas, green birds, and jivajivakas. Birds with beloved offspring, chatakas, and countless others filled the air with sweet, delightful sounds, pleasing to the ear. All these lived harmoniously in the forest. There were charming lakes with clear waters, adorned with kumuda, lotuses, and beautiful blue water-lilies. All around, kahlara and lotus flowers bloomed, and kadamba trees stood nearby. Chakravaka birds and other water-fowl graced the waters, along with karandava ducks, cranes, swans, tortoises, madgu birds, and other water-dwellers spread throughout. Step by step, the apsaras wandered through the wondrous forest, accompanied by her companions. Her eyes grew wide in astonishment at the beauty and delight surrounding her. Overwhelmed, she addressed Vayu, Kama, and Vasanta, saying, “All of you, separately, render me your assistance.” The gods responded, “So be it.” She declared, “Today I will go where that sage is established. Today I will make him, the one who restrains his senses like horses, whose body is emaciated, radiant with the missile of love, the charioteer of desire. Whether he be Brahma, Janardana, or even Nilalohita, still today I will make him wounded by the arrows of love.” Having spoken thus, she went to the sage’s hermitage, which, by the power of his austerity, was free from wild beasts. She stood on the riverbank, as sweet as a male cuckoo, and lingered there for a short while. Then, the excellent apsaras began to sing. Suddenly, Vasanta exerted his power, making the sound of cuckoos sweet and enchanting, even out of season. The fragrant wind from Mount Malaya began to blow, gently causing pure flowers, both high and low, to fall. Kama, the bearer of flower-arrows, approached and disturbed the sage’s mind as well. Hearing the singing, the sage was astonished and went to find the beautiful-browed one, afflicted by the arrows of love. Seeing her, he gazed with wide eyes, his upper garment fallen, his body bristling with hairs in agitation and wonder. He said to her, “Who are you, and whose are you, O lovely-hipped, fortunate one with a charming smile? You steal my mind, beautiful-browed one. Speak the truth, slender-waisted lady.” She replied, “I am your servant, come here for flowers. Give me your command quickly—what shall I do at your order?” Hearing her words, the sage, abandoning self-control and bewildered, took the young woman by the hand and entered his hermitage. Kama, Vayu, and Spring, their purpose accomplished, departed as they had come, returning to heaven. They reported to Hari all that had transpired. Hearing this, Śakra and the gods became pleased and joyful. Kaṇḍu, entering the hermitage with her, assumed his highest form, resembling the god of love. He appeared endowed with beauty and youth, exceedingly enchanting, adorned with divine ornaments, in the form of a sixteen-year-old. Wearing divine garments, handsome, adorned with heavenly garlands and fragrances, possessing all enjoyments, he appeared suddenly, by the power of his austerity. Seeing his vigor, the apsaras was filled with utmost wonder. “Ah, such is the power of his austerity!” she exclaimed, delighted. He abandoned all his daily practices—bathing, twilight rites, recitation, oblation, self-study, worship of deities, vows, fasting, discipline, and meditation. Delighted, he enjoyed her company day and night, his heart seized by love, unaware that his austerity was fading. The passing of twilight, night, day, fortnight, month, season, and year went unnoticed, his mind attached to pleasure. She, skilled in amorous arts, cleverly enticed him in private with words born of desire. Thus Kaṇḍu, devoted to household ways, dwelt with her for more than a hundred years in the valley of Mandara. One day, she said to the blessed sage, “I wish to go to heaven. Be gracious, O Brahman, and permit me to depart.” Thus addressed, the sage, his mind still attached to her, replied, “Stay a few more days, dear one.