Once, in the sacred Vindhya mountains, there dwelled a boon-bestowing goddess, revered by all the worlds and honored as the sister of Vishnu. Her presence sanctified the region, making it a place of worship for gods and mortals alike. The sages, ever eager to hear tales of the divine, addressed Suta with curiosity: “Who is this Vindhya mountain? Why did he strive to touch the sky, seeking to block the path of the sun? And how was it that the son of Mitra and Varuna compelled this mighty mountain to remain in his place? Tell us everything, for the nectar of your stories only deepens our thirst for the glories of the Goddess.” Suta, radiant with wisdom, began his narration. “There was a mountain called Vindhya, honored among all the earth-bearing peaks, clothed in thick forests and mighty trees. Its slopes were adorned with flowering creepers and bushes, alive with deer, wild boar, buffalo, tigers, and leopards. Monkeys, hares, bears, and jackals roamed freely, joyful, well-nourished, and energetic. The mountain was laced with rivers and streams, a haunt for gods, gandharvas, kinnaras, apsaras, and kimpurushas, and graced with wish-fulfilling trees. One day, the divine sage Nārada, wandering the earth in delight, arrived at the splendid Vindhya mountain. Sensing the sage’s presence, Vindhya quickly rose and, with great reverence, offered water for washing his feet, a respectful arghya, and a splendid seat. When Nārada was comfortably seated and pleased, Vindhya addressed him: ‘O divine sage, from where do you come, and for what noble purpose? By your arrival, my abode is blessed. Surely, your crossing is for the safety of the gods from the sun’s heat. Tell me, O Nārada, about this unprecedented state of mind.’ Nārada replied, ‘My journey, O foe of Indra, began on Mount Meru. There I witnessed the realms of Indra, Agni, Yama, and Varuna, and the abodes of all the world’s guardians. I saw the Vindhya mountains, which grant many enjoyments.’ With these words, the son of Brahmā fell into deep thought. Noticing the sage’s sigh, the lord of mountains asked, ‘O divine sage, what causes your sigh?’ Nārada, radiant and gentle, replied, ‘Listen, child, to the reason. Himavat, the father of Gaurī and father-in-law of Śiva, is honored among the mountains because of his relation to the Lord of Beings. Kailāsa, the abode of great Śiva, is also revered, destroying heaps of sin in the world. Niṣadha, Nīla, and Gandhamādana each hold their own honor. But Meru—the golden mountain encircled by the Sun, planets, and stars—considers himself supreme among all mountains, believing none are his equal. Remembering his pride and arrogance, I sighed. Yet, for those strong in austerity, such matters do not trouble the heart. I have told you this only in passing; now I shall return to my abode.’ Thus instructed, the supreme sage Nārada, moving as he pleased, departed for Brahmā’s world. But after his departure, Vindhya was seized by unceasing anxiety. He found no peace, his mind restless and sorrowful. ‘What should I do? How shall I surpass Meru? I find no peace, my mind is unsettled. Fie upon my enthusiasm, pride, fame, and lineage—fie upon my strength and manliness, and the words of the great ones of old!’ So thought Vindhya, his mind filled with clarity and resolve. A new determination arose: ‘The Sun always circles Meru, exalting that mountain with the company of planets and stars. I shall block his path with my own might. If I obstruct the Sun, how will he circle Meru? If I block the path of the Sun and the day, what will come to pass?’ With this resolve, Vindhya’s pride swelled. He thought, ‘The proud celestial serpent will surely be humbled.’ Determined, Vindhya began to grow, stretching his peaks upward to touch the sky, spreading wide and standing firm, intent on blocking the Sun. He waited, pondering, ‘When will the Sun rise? When will I obstruct him?’ As he brooded, night passed and a pure morning dawned. The Sun’s rays dispelled the darkness, and the lord of day rose from the mountain, illuminating the sky with his auspicious light. Lotuses blossomed, water-lilies closed, and all beings set about their daily tasks. The Sun, dividing the day into morning, afternoon, and midday, increased offerings to gods and ancestors, and brought prosperity to the divine realms. He comforted the eastern and southeastern directions, moving onward like a beloved returning after long absence. Leaving the direction of Fire, the Sun turned swiftly toward the southern quarter—only to find his path blocked. Anuru, his charioteer, reported, ‘O Sun, Vindhya, swollen with pride, stands blocking the sky. He competes with Meru, seeking the circumambulation you once granted.’ Hearing Anuru’s words, the Sun began to reflect on this new challenge.