At her father’s command, Matsyagandhā—also known as Vāsavī—guided the venerable sage Parāśara across the river, ferrying him in her small boat. As they journeyed over the waters of the Yamunā, daughter of the Sun, fate intervened. Parāśara, gazing upon her, was suddenly overcome with desire, captivated by the beauty of her youthful eyes. The sage, his heart stirred, wished to unite with her and reached out, touching her right hand with his own. Matsyagandhā, dark-eyed and composed, smiled gently and questioned him: “Is this conduct befitting your noble family, your learning, and your austerity? You are descended from Vasiṣṭha, honored for your lineage and character. O knower of dharma, why do you, afflicted by desire, intend such an act?” She continued, “Human birth is rare, O best of Brāhmaṇas, and Brāhmaṇahood is rarer still. By lineage, conduct, and learning, you are foremost among the twice-born, a true knower of righteousness. How have you come to such a low state, desiring me, a woman of fish-scent? O sage of unwavering mind, what auspicious quality do you see in me that you wish to take my hand? Consumed by desire, you approach me—do you not recognize your own dharma?” Her thoughts turned inward: “Alas, this Brāhmaṇa, intent on taking my hand, is wholly absorbed in me. His mind is pierced by Kāma’s five arrows, agitated beyond opposition.” Composing herself, Matsyagandhā spoke again: “Compose yourself, O fortunate one; I will bring you safely to the far shore.” Hearing her gentle and considerate words, Parāśara released her hand and waited as she brought him across the river. Yet, desire still gripped him. Once ashore, the sage, unable to restrain himself, again grasped the fish-scented maiden. Trembling, she addressed him: “O best of sages, I am foul-smelling—how do you not hesitate? Union is joyful only between those of equal nature.” In response, Parāśara, by his power, transformed her. In an instant, Matsyagandhā became fragrant as musk, her beauty and charm enhanced, her face radiant and lovely. Now, the sage, still longing, took her by the right hand. Desiring union, yet mindful of her situation, Satyavatī—so she was also called—spoke: “O sage, the people and my father are watching from the riverbank. Open and harsh union, like that of animals, does not please me. Wait until night falls, for union is prescribed at night, not by day. People condemn such acts in daylight. Restrain your desire, O wise one; public censure is hard to endure.” Hearing her reasonable plea, Parāśara, by his spiritual merit, conjured a thick mist, enveloping the riverbank in impenetrable darkness. Hidden from sight, the maiden gently said, “I am a virgin, O foremost of Brāhmaṇas. After enjoying me as you wish, you will depart. But what will become of me? What shall I tell my father if I become pregnant? After you leave, what am I to do?” Parāśara replied, “Choose a boon, O gentle one, whatever your heart desires.” She answered, “Let my vow of maidenhood not be broken; grant me this, O best of the twice-born. May my son be equal to you in wondrous strength. May this sweet fragrance always remain with me, and may my youth remain ever fresh.” The sage assured her: “O beautiful one, your son, born of the lineage of Vishnu, will be pure and renowned throughout the three worlds. For some reason, I have been overcome by desire for you; never before, not even upon seeing the celestial apsaras, have I lost my composure. By divine arrangement I was drawn to you—this is destiny, which none can escape. Once you were of unpleasant scent; how could I have been deluded otherwise? Your son will be the composer of the Purāṇas, a knower and arranger of the Vedas, famed throughout the three worlds.” Having spoken thus, Parāśara united with her and, his desire fulfilled, swiftly departed, bathing in the waters of the Kālindī. Satyavatī immediately conceived. On an island in the Yamunā, she gave birth to a radiant son, as if desire itself had taken form. Remarkably, as soon as he was born, the child spoke to his mother, his mind already set on asceticism: “Go as you wish, mother; I will now depart to perform austerities. Whenever you have need of me, remember me, and I shall appear. At that time, call for me and I will come swiftly. Farewell; abandon worry and live happily.” Having spoken, Vyāsa—their son—departed to the forest, and Satyavatī returned to her father. Because the child was born on an island, he became known as Dvaipāyana. Immediately upon his birth, he grew rapidly, empowered by the lineage of Vishnu, and performed great austerities at many sacred places. Thus was Dvaipāyana born from Parāśara and Satyavatī. Foreseeing the coming of the Kali age, he arranged the Vedas into their branches. By this great work, he became known as Vyāsa. He also composed the Purāṇas and the great Mahābhārata, his fame resounding throughout the three worlds.