As Rudra moved along his path, a group of women, smiling and exchanging glances with each other, surrounded him. They embraced him from all sides, blocking his way, and began to display their various skills in his presence. Some among them asked, “Who are you?” while others invited him, saying, “Sit here.” Their hearts filled with joy, they inquired, “Where have you come from? Please, be gracious to us.” In the midst of this, some of the women, with their hair and garments loosened, fell down in confusion—even the devoted wives, right before their husbands—such was the illusion cast by Bhava. Witnessing their actions and hearing their words, the imperishable Lord—whether the outcome was auspicious or not—remained silent, neither approving nor responding. The brahmins, seeing both the group of women and Shankara in this state, became deeply agitated. The great sages, their hearts burning, spoke extremely harsh words. They felt that all their austerities and spiritual merit were being destroyed by Shankara, just as the stars in the sky vanish at sunrise. They recalled stories of how, by the curse of a sage, even Brahma, the great soul, lost the source of his prosperity and sacrifices came to ruin. By Bhrigu’s curse, Vishnu himself, though supremely powerful, was forced to take ten different births and endure sorrow. Indra, the knower of dharma, once had his testicles cut off by the sage Gautama in anger and cast to the earth. The Vasus were made to dwell in the womb due to a curse, and Nahusha became a serpent by the wrath of the sages. They remembered that the ocean of milk is always the abode of Hari, while the second, which holds the nectar, is forbidden to the Brahmins. Yet Janardana, having reached Avimukteshvara in Varanasi, anointed the Lord of Lords, Tryambaka, with milk. With utmost faith, Madhusudana himself used the nectar of bodily union to anoint the Lord with milk. Then, together with Brahma and the sages, the blessed one poured milk and, as before, made the ocean of milk his own dwelling. They also recalled how Dharma was cursed by the great-souled Mandavya, and the Vrishnis by Krishna and other great sages like Durvasa. Even Raghava and his brothers were cursed by Durvasa, and Shrivatsa, because he fell at the feet of the wise sage. Thus, many great beings had come under the sway of the brahmins’ power, except for Virupaksha, the God of Gods, the consort of Uma. Deluded by Rudra’s maya, the sages did not recognize Shankara for who he was. Instead, they spoke extremely harsh words, and he, though fierce, vanished from their sight. The sages, their minds troubled and restless, left the Daru forest at dawn and went to Pitamaha, the great-souled Brahma, who was seated upon his supreme seat. Approaching him, they reported everything that had happened in the auspicious Daru forest. Pitamaha, reflecting deeply, recalled all that had transpired long ago in that holy place. Rising with joined palms, he bowed to Bhava and then addressed the sages, his voice grave and clear. “Shame upon you,” he said, “for you have missed the supreme and incomparable treasure. You brahmins, deprived of fortune, have acted in vain. The one you saw in the Daru forest, bearing the linga, though he appeared deformed to you, is indeed the Supreme Lord. “Householders should never despise guests, O twice-born, whether they are deformed or handsome, dirty or unlearned. Even Death and Time were once conquered on earth by the foremost brahmin Sudarshana, through the worship of guests. Without such worship, there is no crossing over for householders and excellent brahmins; honoring guests is the purifier of one’s self on earth. “It is said that Sudarshana, even as a householder, once made a vow in Jayā, saying to his devoted wife: ‘O virtuous one with beautiful brows, listen carefully. You must never disregard guests in your home at any time. Every guest is, in truth, directly the bearer of the Pināka; therefore, after giving to the guest, you should even honor him as your own self.’ “His wife, distressed and helpless, weeping, said to her husband: ‘Master, what have you said?’ But Sudarshana replied, ‘Everything should be given, noble one, to Shiva; for Shiva himself is the guest.’ “Thus instructed by her husband, the devoted wife took his command as if it were the sacred remnant of an offering and acted accordingly, O best of the twice-born, to test their faith directly. “Dharma, taking the form of a distinguished brahmin, came to the sage’s house. Seeing him, the sinless wife worshipped the brahmin with water for washing his feet and other offerings. After being duly honored, Dharma, the brahmin, asked, ‘O blessed one, where is your wise husband, Sudarshana?’ “Then he said, ‘With sufficient food and drink, O noble lady, you should also offer yourself here.’ The woman, covered with modesty, remembered her husband’s words. With her eyes lowered, trembling, she pondered what to do and, fixing her mind on Dharma, addressed him again. “By her husband’s command, she was about to offer herself to the guest. At that very moment, the wise sage Sudarshana arrived at the doorway of the house and called out to her, ‘Come, come, O blessed one, where have you gone?’ The guest himself then spoke to him.” Thus, Brahma reminded the sages of the supreme importance of honoring guests, for even the highest gods have been subject to the power of brahmins and sages—except for Shiva, the consort of Uma, who moves beyond all delusion and censure.