Hear now a sacred tale, drawn faithfully from the ancient verses. It is said that a twice-born who neglects the daily sandhyā rites, who remains ever impure, or who turns away from Kṛṣṇa, falls from the path of true sanctity. Yet, when the mantra of Viṣṇu is poured into one’s ear by the guru’s own mouth, that soul, together with hundreds of his ancestors and maternal forebears, ascends to the very abode of Hari. For just as there are four castes—brāhmaṇa, kṣatriya, vaiśya, and śūdra—so too do the Vaiṣṇavas always meditate upon the lotus feet of Govinda. The Lord, ever compassionate, wields the Sudarśana discus to protect His devotees. Once, the venerable sage Śaunaka spoke, his voice filled with both curiosity and reverence. “I have heard these things,” he said, “spoken in reproach, as an introduction, and out of wonder. Tell me, who created the beings? Who among them were the celibate ascetics? And what transpired when a father cursed his son, and the son opposed his father?” To this, the wise Sūta replied: “O Śaunaka, among the earliest beings were the Apāntaratamas, as well as the great sages Sanaka and his brothers. Alongside them were many other sons of Brahmā, who appeared in continuous succession. Yet, by the curse of his own son, Brahmā, the lord of creatures, became unworthy of worship. And by the curse of his teacher, the sage Nārada was transformed into a Gandharva—a king among the celestial musicians, the greatest of them all.” Obedient to his teacher’s command, Nārada journeyed to the sacred lake of Puṣkara, where he performed supreme meditation. There, he recited the armor hymn of Śiva and the twelve-syllabled mantra, chanting the divine words for a hundred years. At the end of this long penance, Śiva appeared before him—a being of eternal splendor and magnificent form, the very embodiment of austerity, the seed and fruit of all penance. Nārada beheld Lord Śiva, bearing trident and spear, riding upon a bull, his only garment the directions themselves. His matted locks shone with the radiance of molten gold; he was the supreme conqueror of death, the destroyer of all, Time itself. Serene and tranquil, Śiva was the bestower of true knowledge, liberation, and even devotion to Hari. With a hymn taught by Vasiṣṭha, Nārada praised the Supreme Lord and humbly requested two boons: unwavering devotion to Hari and a son who would be a supreme devotee of Viṣṇu. Hearing these words, the moon-crested Lord Śiva spoke: “O king of the Gandharvas, what do you desire? Who is ever truly satisfied, O most inauspicious one? Child, know this: unwavering devotion to Hari is the source of all auspiciousness. One’s lineage, numbering in the hundreds of millions, along with that of the maternal grandfather, and the threefold sins accumulated over countless births—all these, as well as wife, son, and every desired prosperity, last only so long as the sword of devotion toward Kṛṣṇa has not arisen in the mind. “Fortunate indeed are those whose sons are supreme devotees of Viṣṇu. Even one such son fulfills all a man’s desires—what a blessing! For us Vaiṣṇavas, accumulated wealth is exceedingly rare. Therefore, child, choose another boon, whatever your heart desires. All accomplishments, great yoga, knowledge, and even victory over death—these are within your reach.” Hearing these words from Śaṅkara, Nārada was so moved that his throat, lips, and palate became dry. Then the Gandharva replied, “O Lord, even the state of Brahman is like a fleeting dream if one does not long for devotion to Kṛṣṇa. O Śiva, lordship of Indra, immortality, or yogic powers—what are these compared to devotion?” Thus, the sacred dialogue unfolded, revealing the supreme value of devotion to Hari above all other attainments.