There was once a woman of unparalleled beauty, a true jewel among women, her form exquisitely graceful and adorned with ornaments of the finest precious gems. She and her beloved, both skilled in the arts of love, delighted ceaselessly in each other's company, their affection knowing no interruption. Yet, when she became menstruous, her husband, observing the proper conduct, refrained from further union. Soon after, she conceived, and with steadfast chastity, she bore the developing embryo within her for a hundred divine years. At last, at an auspicious hour, on a day marked by the most favorable conjunctions, she gave birth. It was the full moon of the bright fortnight of Kārtika, a day radiant with promise, O lotus-born one. The child who emerged was resplendent, her feet like blooming lotuses, glowing with the deep hue of padmarāga gems. She was endowed with the fortune of royalty, the very goddess presiding over royal prosperity. Her lips, red as ripe bimba fruit, curved into a smile as she gazed about her home. Below her navel were three graceful folds, her hips rounded and gently swaying. Dark-complexioned, with luxuriant hair, she possessed a loveliness and a shape reminiscent of a splendid banyan tree. So extraordinary was her beauty that men and women alike, upon seeing her, could find no comparison in all the world. She was, in every way, suited to the measure of the earth, embodying the natural grace of womanhood. There, she undertook supreme austerities for a hundred thousand divine years. In the heat of summer, she practiced the rigorous five-fold fire austerity; in winter, she stood steadfast in cold water. For twenty thousand years, she subsisted solely on fruits and water, and for forty thousand more, she lived on air alone, her waist slender as a creeper. At last, the lotus-born Brahma beheld her, standing on one foot, her form subtle and almost beyond perception. She, in turn, saw Brahma, the Four-faced One, riding upon his swan. Brahma addressed her, saying, “Whether you desire devotion to Hari, or liberation, or even deathlessness and freedom from old age—” To this, Tulasi replied, “O all-knowing one, what shame could I possibly feel before you now? I, Tulasi, was once a gopi dwelling in Goloka. I was deeply attached to Govinda, and, unsatisfied and fainting with longing, I—” She continued, “Radhika, angered, rebuked Govinda and cursed me. Then Govinda said to me: ‘You shall become a portion of me, four-armed.’ Having spoken thus, the Lord of the gods vanished from my sight. I then beheld Narayana, my beloved, serene and beautiful in form.” Brahma explained, “That radiant portion was born on earth in Bharata as Alabhya. Because of Radhika’s curse, he was born in the race of the Danavas. Having seen you before in Goloka, his mind was filled with desire for you. Remembering his past birth, he performed austerities and, by a boon, obtained you as his own. Now, O auspicious and beautiful one, become his wife. By the curse of Narayana himself, through a divine portion and arrangement, you shall become the foremost among all flowers, dearer to Vishnu than life itself. In Vrindavana, you will take the form of a tree and be known as Vrinda. As the goddess presiding over trees, you shall always dwell with Krishna.” Hearing these words, Tulasi smiled, her heart overflowing with joy. She spoke: “I speak the truth, O father, it is not so with the four-armed one. I remain unsatisfied with Govinda, for fate has interrupted our passion. But by his grace, Govinda—who is so rarely attained—will one day be mine again.