In the sacred time of Pūrvā Phālgunī, the Teacher of the world took birth, and likewise, it is said that a divine birth occurred in Pūrvā Āṣāḍhā. At that moment, Mercury, the gentle and auspicious planet, arose in the constellation Dhaniṣṭhā, shining forth with a fivefold brilliance. In Ārśleṣā, the great and formidable planet—known as the destroyer of all—was born. Rahu, too, emerged, composed of the very essence of darkness, its nature that of a black sphere. All these stars and planets—Bhargava and the rest—must be understood in their order and significance. They are each affected by a certain fault, which influences them according to their planetary divisions. Among all the stars and planets, Venus stands out as the most prominent; among comets, it is the smoky one that is foremost. Of the constellations, Śraviṣṭhā is preeminent, and among the solstices, the northern is considered the highest. Winter is regarded as the foremost among the seasons, and Māgha among the months. Of the divisions of day and night, the day is declared superior. When considering the smallest divisions of time, the instant and the blink of an eye are recognized as the very essence of time itself, O best among those who know time. By the special movement of the sun, time revolves like a great wheel, marking the beginning and the end of the four kinds of beings. Thus, the arrangement of the luminaries—sun, moon, planets, and stars—has been established with certainty and purpose. Through the northern Śravaṇa, this arrangement is further condensed and fixed at the celestial pole. In the beginning of the kalpa, the wise ones set forth this very arrangement, laying the foundation for the cosmic order. This wondrous transformation is the principal form of the universe, manifesting in the coming and going of the luminaries, which humans can observe with their own eyes. When examined carefully and intelligently, this arrangement should be trusted by the wise. There are five causes, O Brahmins, that must be discerned in understanding the group of luminaries. When the sun reached its zenith, the blessed one recited a sacred prayer. All those present, their minds disciplined and focused, stood with hands joined in reverence. The ever-blessed one spoke, offering salutations: “Salutations to you, O Nīlakaṇṭha.” These gathered ones were renowned as the Vālakhilyas, companions of the birds. With curiosity and devotion, they questioned Vāyu, the wind-god who is sustained by wind and leaves. “This is a secret among the pure,” they said, “a blessing for those who know virtue. We wish to hear all of this, O Prabhañjana, by your grace. We desire to hear, O Deva, especially from your own mouth.” They inquired further: “When Vāyu enters the place of the letters, the function of speech arises. When you are purified, the remaining activities of the letters proceed. From you comes the very existence of the letters; you are ever-present, O universal wind. This is indeed your world of living beings, O wind, manifest everywhere and directly perceived. Tell us, what happened at the region of the throat, causing a change in form?” Vāyu, brilliant and honored by all the worlds, replied: “There is Vasiṣṭha, righteous in spirit, born of the mind, a progenitor. It was the eye-salve stolen from the women of the buffalo-demon. It was the form of the eyebrow-paste of Umā’s joyful mind. What you see, O excellent one, is bright, resembling pure white ointment.” Thus, Vāyu concluded, “Tell this, O shining, restrained, and devoted one, to the one who asks.