In the days of creation, Brahmā, the great progenitor, brought forth many sons—countless and continuous, the universe populated by his offspring. Yet, in the course of time, a curse uttered by his own son fell upon Brahmā, rendering the lord of all creatures unworthy of worship. Among his illustrious children was Nārada, who, by the curse of his teacher, was transformed into a Gandharva. Not just any celestial musician, Nārada became the king and foremost among all Gandharvas. Obedient to his teacher’s command, Nārada withdrew to Puṣkara, where he devoted himself to the highest meditation. There, he recited the protective armor hymn of Śiva and the sacred twelve-syllabled mantra. With unwavering focus, he chanted this supreme, divine mantra for a full hundred years. At the end of this long penance, Śiva Himself appeared before Nārada. The Lord stood before him—eternal, radiant, and magnificent in form. Nārada beheld the very embodiment of austerity, the source and fruit of all asceticism, bearing a trident and spear, riding the noble bull, and clothed in the directions themselves. His matted locks shone with the brilliance of molten gold. Nārada saw before him the supreme conqueror of death, the destroyer of all, the very essence of Time, tranquil and bestower of true knowledge, liberation, and devotion to Hari. With a hymn given by the sage 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 the words of the Gandharva, the moon-crested Lord Śiva spoke: “O king of the Gandharvas, what is it that you desire? Who is ever truly satisfied, O most inauspicious one? My child, know that unwavering devotion to Hari is the source of all auspiciousness. One’s own lineage, however vast, and even that of the maternal grandfather, as well as the threefold sins accumulated over countless births, and all desired prosperity—wife, son, and wealth—these remain only until the sword of devotion to Kṛṣṇa, which is difficult to overcome, arises in the heart. “Fortunate indeed are those whose sons are supreme devotees of Viṣṇu. Even one such son fulfills a man’s every desire—what a blessing! For us Vaiṣṇavas, accumulated wealth is exceedingly rare. Choose another boon, my child, whatever you wish in your heart. All accomplishments, great yoga, knowledge, even victory over death—these, too, may be yours.” Upon hearing these words of Śaṅkara, Nārada’s throat, lips, and palate became dry with emotion. He replied, “O Lord, even the state of Brahman is but a dream if one does not desire devotion to Kṛṣṇa. O Śiva, lordship of Indra, immortality, yogic powers, residence, opulence, nearness, or oneness with Śrī Hari—none of these compare. Eternal, firm devotion and the status of a servant of Hari are exceedingly rare. O wish-fulfilling tree, grant me this boon: to become a servant of the son of Viṣṇu. If you will not grant this, O Śambhu, then let me become a wrongdoer, for I desire nothing else.” Hearing these heartfelt words, the ocean of compassion, Śrī Śaṃkara, spoke: “May your son be long-lived, virtuous, ever youthful, and steadfast. May he be wise, handsome, devoted to his teacher, and master of his senses.” Having thus spoken, Śaṃkara returned to his own abode. All the people, their hearts blossoming with joy, saw their purpose fulfilled. In time, on the sacred slopes of Mount Gandhamādana, that elderly woman gave birth to a son, as had been blessed.