He who neglects certain sacred duties, such as failing to sprinkle the ground with milk after performing a sacrifice, or digging the earth during an earthquake or an eclipse, incurs a sin as grave as the killing of a brāhmaṇa. The earth herself, known as Urvī, was born from the thighs of Hari. She is diminished by sacrificial offerings and rituals, and ultimately absorbed at the time of dissolution. This steadfast one is the daughter of Kaśyapa, embodying stability and immovability. She is called Pṛthvī because she was the daughter of Pṛthu, and Mahī, O sage, because of her vastness. At this point, Nārada, ever eager to hear sacred stories, addressed his question: “O best of those who know the Vedas, please tell me the story of Gaṅgā. How did the goddess of the gods, Gaṅgā, come to Bhārata from the feet of the lord of Bhārata? How, where, in which age, and by whom was she requested and sent before?” The story unfolds with the illustrious Sagara, lord of kings and scion of the solar dynasty. Sagara was the very embodiment of truth—devoted to truth, truthful in speech, and ever thinking truthfully. He had one wife and one exceedingly handsome son. His other wife, longing for a son, worshipped Śaṅkara with great devotion. After a hundred years, she gave birth, but instead of a child, it was a mere lump of flesh. Then Śambhu himself, in the form of a brāhmaṇa, approached her. Through divine intervention, the lump of flesh was transformed, and all became sons—powerful and valorous. Yet, fate intervened. By the angry gaze of the sage Kapila, these sons were reduced to ashes. Thereafter, Asamañja undertook severe austerities to bring Gaṅgā to earth, hoping to redeem the souls of Sagara’s sons. His son Dilīpa also performed austerities for the same purpose, and then his son Aṃśumān continued the quest. Finally, Bhagīratha, Aṃśumān’s son, a great devotee and wise soul, undertook extraordinary austerities for a hundred thousand years to bring Gaṅgā down. During his penances, Bhagīratha beheld a wondrous youth—two-armed, holding a flute, dressed as a cowherd. This was none other than the supreme Brahman, complete and sovereign, manifest by his own will, unattached, a witness beyond all qualities and transcending nature itself. Purified by fire, adorned with jeweled ornaments, and placed in Śuka, he was the very embodiment of divine play. By his devotion and perseverance, Bhagīratha attained the boon he sought—the salvation of his lineage. With deep reverence, Gaṅgā bowed to this supreme one, her hands joined, her body thrilled with divine joy, and offered her praises. Śrī Kṛṣṇa then spoke: “By my command, purify all the sons of Sagara. They now possess divine forms and ride in celestial chariots. Having exhausted the fruits of their actions through many births, they are now accomplished souls. As the scriptures declare, by the touch and the wind of the Ganges, their sins are destroyed. For ordinary people, even by merely bathing in the Ganges on the sacred day of Mausalā, all sins—including the most grievous, like killing a brāhmaṇa—are washed away. Such is the power of bathing in the Ganges on Mausalā day; all sins are destroyed. Some say, O goddess, that the results are just as the scriptures declare. Listen, O beautiful one, to the resolve for bathing even on an ordinary day. But on the day of the sun’s transit, the merit becomes thirty times greater.” Thus, the sacred narrative of the coming of Gaṅgā and her purifying power was revealed.