When Satyavatī’s son, Vicitravīrya, passed away, she was overcome with immense grief. Though her heart was heavy, she ensured that the ministers performed the proper funeral rites for her departed son. Left in solitude with her sorrow, Satyavatī sought out Bhīṣma, her stepson, and addressed him, her voice laden with distress: “O fortunate one, son of Śantanu, take up the kingdom. You are your father’s heir.” She pleaded further, “Accept your brother’s wife and preserve the royal lineage, so that our dynasty does not perish—just as the line of Yayāti was once safeguarded.” But Bhīṣma replied with gentle firmness, “Mother, you know the vow I took for my father’s sake. I will neither rule the kingdom nor take a wife.” The charioteer, witnessing these events, remarked that Satyavatī became deeply anxious, wondering how the family line would continue. The kingdom, without a ruler, weighed heavily on everyone’s minds. Seeing her distress, Bhīṣma, the son of Ganga, comforted her: “Do not worry, O beautiful one. You may ensure the continuation of Vicitravīrya’s line by the practice of kṣetraja—a son begotten in the family through another, as is sanctioned by tradition. Call upon a noble Brahmin and unite him with the royal widows. There is no fault in this, even according to the Vedas, for the sake of the dynasty’s protection. Thus, by producing a grandson, you may grant him the kingdom, O pure-smiling one. I will serve and govern under his command.” Hearing Bhīṣma’s words, Satyavatī turned her thoughts to her own son, the sage Vyāsa, who was born sinless to her in her youth. No sooner had she remembered him than Vyāsa, the great ascetic, appeared before her. He bowed respectfully to his mother, his radiance like a smokeless fire, and stood before her, honored by both Bhīṣma and Satyavatī. Satyavatī then requested the sage, “My son, now beget a son—beautiful and born of your energy—in the field of Vicitravīrya.” Vyāsa, hearing his mother’s command, reflected deeply. Saying “Om,” he stood in contemplation, waiting for the proper time. When Ambikā, one of the royal widows, had bathed and was in her season, she united with Vyāsa. As a result, she bore a mighty son, but he was blind from birth. Even Satyavatī was distressed at this outcome. She urged the second bride, “Quickly, beget a son.” When Ambālikā’s season arrived, she too united with Vyāsa at night and conceived. Her son, Pāṇḍu, was born—fit for kingship, yet for reasons of fate, not fully accepted. Wishing for another son, Satyavatī sent the bride to Vyāsa once more at the year’s end. This time, the bride, out of fear, did not go herself but sent her maidservant instead. From this union, Vidura was born—a righteous and virtuous soul. Thus, Vyāsa begot three sons—Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Pāṇḍu, and Vidura—mighty heroes who would uphold the lineage. In this way, the line was preserved by Vyāsa, who knew the laws of kinship and was sinless. Having recounted the origin of this noble lineage, the narrative turns to a sacred dialogue. Nārada addressed Nārāyaṇa, the support of the earth and protector of all, praising the deeds of the Goddess, which destroy all sin. “In every age of Manu,” Nārada said, “the Goddess manifests in whatever form she chooses. Tell us, O Lord, of her many incarnations—how and by whom she was worshipped and praised on earth. She, who is devoted to her devotees and fulfills the wishes of the faithful, let us hear her supreme deeds for our welfare. Describe them, ocean of compassion, by which one attains great happiness.” Śrī Nārāyaṇa replied, “Listen, O great sage, to these deeds that destroy sin. The Goddess is the origin of devotion, the source of prosperity, the womb of the universe, the supreme radiance. Brahma, the grandfather of the worlds, appeared from the lotus that grew from the navel of the Lord of gods, the wielder of the discus. With four faces, Brahma manifested and, by his mind, created Manu, named Svayambhuva, his own son. He also produced Śatarūpā, Manu’s wife, who embodied righteousness. On the pure shore of the ocean of milk, Manu worshipped the Goddess who grants the fruits of great fortune. He crafted her image from clay and performed the sacred rites. Reciting the Vagbhava mantra in secret, he fasted and controlled his breath, his body emaciated by observances and vows. Standing on one foot, unwavering day and night, he performed austerities for a hundred years, conquering desire and anger, meditating steadfastly on the Goddess’s feet within his heart. By his intense austerity, the Goddess—who embodies the universe—appeared before him and spoke divine words: ‘Choose a boon, O king.’ Overjoyed, Manu replied, ‘Victory to you, O Goddess, wide-eyed, who dwells within all! O venerable, worshipful one, nourisher of the world, most auspicious among the auspicious! By your glance, the lotus-born creates the universe; Vaikuntha protects; Hara destroys in an instant; the lord of Śacī rules the three worlds by your command. The lord of the departed instructs with punishment; Varuṇa, lord of the aquatic beings, protects even those like me. Kubera, lord of treasures, acts by your will; and the other guardians—Agni, Nairṛta, Vāyu, Īśāna, and Śeṣa—all serve your purpose.