O faultless one, there was a royal sage of great virtue and unwavering truth named Shantanu. It was foretold that you would become his wife, and by this union, your release from a former curse would certainly come to pass—there was no doubt about it. The goddess Ganga, who was the subject of much contemplation and prayer, herself descended to earth. At this time, Shantanu, steadfast and righteous, ruled as king. One day, from the sacred waters, there emerged a woman of extraordinary beauty. Without hesitation, Shantanu approached her as she sat gracefully upon his lap and addressed her, “O lovely-faced one.” The woman, radiant in form, inquired, “For what purpose do you speak to me thus, O foremost of kings?” The king, captivated by her youthful beauty, replied, “O charming one, you are seated here embracing my right thigh. When a greatly desired son is born to me, become my daughter-in-law, O auspicious lady.” To this, the divine woman of passionate appearance simply said, “So be it,” and departed. In due course, a son was born to Shantanu. Having recounted these events, the king spoke again to his son, instructing him, “Desiring her, O splendid one, you should take that enchanting woman as your lawful wife. In doing so, happiness shall be yours.” With a joyful heart, the king bestowed all royal splendor upon his son and, having fulfilled his duties, entered the forest. There, by his own power, he relinquished his body and ascended to heaven, his reign as protector of his subjects complete. Now, Sūta continues: This king, fond of hunting, often roamed the forests, slaying tigers and deer. On one such occasion, he wandered along the banks of the Ganges. There, he beheld her—the very woman his father had spoken of—and was instantly captivated by her beauty. Drawn to her, he drank deeply from her lotus-like mouth, yet his thirst for her company remained unquenched. She too, recognizing in him the spirit of Mahābhiṣa, was filled with love. Seeing her eyes, dark at the corners and shining with emotion, the king’s heart overflowed with joy. “O slender-thighed one,” he said, “whether you are a goddess or a human, O beautiful-faced lady, whoever you may be, become my wife, O lovely-hipped woman.” Ganga, for she was indeed the goddess herself, knew that the king was Mahābhiṣa reborn. Because of their deep connection from a previous life, upon hearing his plea, she replied, “What woman does not wish for a worthy husband, having considered it? By a bond of words, O best of kings, I will indeed become your wife. But know this: whatever deed I may do, whether auspicious or inauspicious, and whenever, O king, you do not follow my word—” She remembered in her heart the request of the Vasus, whose birth she carried as a secret purpose. When the king agreed, saying, “So be it,” the radiant goddess Ganga became his wife. She entered his palace, understanding his heart and delighting him in every way. With her eyes like those of a gentle fawn, she was to him as Śacī is to Indra. Together, they enjoyed the pleasures of their splendid palace, like Lakṣmī and Nārāyaṇa themselves. In time, Ganga, the beautiful-eyed goddess, gave birth to a son—one of the Vasus. And so, in the years that followed—the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth—fate continued to unfold its mysterious design.