Resembling the pure whiteness of snow, sandalwood, jasmine, the moon, the water-lily, and the lotus, the Lord manifested in many forms, adapting to the diversity of all objects. He took the form of the wind, the moon, and the sun—He, the great and mighty Lord, whose presence is boundless. He is the very life of His devotees, ever eager to bestow His grace upon those who are devoted to Him. Beyond the limits of speech and mind, He wields the trident and the spear, His face adorned with a gentle smile and the crescent moon upon His brow. After reciting this king of hymns, Bāṇa, who was ever self-controlled, made it his daily practice to repeat these sacred verses. Long ago, this very hymn was given by the sage Vasiṣṭha to a Gandharva. Whoever, with devotion, recites this great and meritorious hymn receives immense blessings. A man without a son will obtain a son if he listens to it for a year; one who suffers from leprosy or great pain will be cured if he listens for the same period. Even those bound in prison find no contentment unless they hear it. If a king has lost his kingdom, he will regain it by listening with devotion for a month. A faithful person afflicted with consumption will be healed after a year of attentive listening. O twice-born, whoever listens with devotion to this king of hymns will never be separated from relatives, O descendant of Bharata. One who is disciplined and listens with great devotion for a month, or even a great fool lacking intelligence who does so, or one suffering from the pain of actions or poverty—if he listens with devotion for a month—will enjoy happiness in this world and attain rare fame. Ultimately, such a person will become an exalted attendant and serve Śaṅkara in His divine realm. After these events, Sūta continued: The king of the Gandharvas spent the remainder of his days in the secluded forest with his family. He rejoiced together with his sons, wives, and companions, enjoying a reign that was as splendid as the abode of Kubera. In due course, on the charming banks of the Gaṅgā, this Gandharva king—devoted to Śiva, blessed by Śiva’s grace, and through his son’s service to Viṣṇu—honored his parents. Thus, the Gandharva Upabarhaṇa, after fulfilling his duties, eventually gave up his life, as ordained by Brahmā’s curse. Mālāvatī, his wife, entered the fire-pit at Puṣkara, on the sacred land of Bhārata. Then, in the wife of Sṛñjaya—who was born of Manu’s lineage—the Gandharva Upabarhaṇa took birth as my husband. Śaunaka then inquired, “By what means was he born? Please tell us that, O wise one.” Sūta replied: Kalāvatī, his wife, though childless, was deeply devoted to her husband. Because of a fault in her husband, she remained barren. Yet, by his command, she engaged herself in deep meditation upon Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who blazes with the radiance of Brahman, shining as brilliantly as the midday sun in the height of summer. At the end of her meditation, the best of sages, wholly devoted to Krishna, beheld a woman of enchanting beauty. Her complexion was like champaka flowers, her eyes like autumn lotuses. Her broad hips weighed upon her, her thighs and breasts were full. She appeared enchanted, taking the form of a sage, and was tormented by the arrows of desire. Adorned with a dot of vermilion and shining with beautiful, bright kohl, she radiated a rare, captivating presence.