Śaunaka, eager to know more, asked, “By what means was he born? You ought to tell us that.” Sūta replied, “Kalāvatī, his wife, though childless, was deeply devoted to her husband. Yet, due to a fault of her husband, she remained barren. In time, following her husband’s command, she began to meditate upon Śrī Kṛṣṇa, whose radiance blazed like Brahman itself—shining with the brilliance of the midday sun at the height of summer. When the sage, wholly devoted to Krishna, completed his meditation, he beheld a wondrous sight: a woman of enchanting beauty stood before him. Her complexion glowed like champaka flowers, her eyes shone like autumn lotuses. Her broad hips seemed to burden her; her thighs and breasts were full and graceful. She was captivated, appearing in the guise of a sage, yet tormented by the arrows of desire. She adorned herself with a dot of vermilion and her eyes sparkled with bright kohl. The sage, surprised to see her in that lonely place, asked, “Who are you, O passionate one?” Hearing his words, Kalāvatī trembled. She replied, “I have come seeking a son, at your feet, by my husband’s command. Grant me your seed; a woman who has come should not be disregarded.” Upon hearing the words of the woman, who was of low caste, the best of sages grew angry. Kashyapa declared, “She abandons him, and he is deluded; this is certainly the teaching of the Veda. You shall never again be worthy of enjoying the pleasures of Drumila. A Brahmin who, lacking wisdom, takes a Shudra wife—at ancestral offerings, at sacrifices, by touching stone, or in worship of the gods—he himself goes to Kumbhipaka hell, after causing others to fall there. That offering becomes urine, the rice-ball instantly becomes excrement. The chosen deity accepts that, but not the food offering nor that water. He is cooked in the Kumbhipaka hell for as long as Indra’s reign lasts. Whoever eats food left by his wife is the lowest among Brahmins, like a Shudra. If a Shudra, weak in knowledge, takes a Brahmin woman, he is confined for eighteen Indra-periods in the realm of Kālāsūtra. Then, after that, the Brahmin woman is born in the lineage of Chandalas.” Having spoken thus, the foremost sage Shaunaka fell silent. Meanwhile, Menaka proceeded along that path. The outcaste woman, purified by her period, drank there with delight for a moment. Then, she went and bowed to Drumila, her beloved, enchanting to behold. Hearing Kalāvatī’s words, Drumila’s face lit up with joy. He said, “You will have a son who is a Vaishnava, and you, chaste lady, will be fortunate. Whichever womb a Vaishnava is born from, or by whose seed, O chaste one, both will ascend in a Vishnu-airplane made of precious gems. Go, O auspicious-faced one, to the house of some Brahmin.” Having said this, the king of cowherds bathed and performed the offering. There were four hundred thousand horses and one hundred thousand elephants. Uccaiḥśravas numbered five hundred thousand, and there were a thousand chariots. There were twelve hundred thousand cows and three hundred thousand buffaloes.