Once, long ago, Vyāsa imparted a sacred teaching he had himself received directly from the lips of Rudra. The sages, eager to know more, asked: “How did the gods, once bound as cattle, become free upon beholding Paśupati? Please tell us how their liberation came about.” In ancient times, atop the lofty heights of Mount Kailāsa, in the divine city of Bhogya, the gods assembled. By the grace of the all-knowing Lord, they drew near, seeking his blessing for their deliverance. For the welfare of all celestial beings, Janārdana—accompanied by Brahmā—mounted the mighty Garuḍa, the Supreme Person, and set forth. Hari, together with the host of gods, journeyed to the very presence of the God of gods. Arriving at the auspicious mountain, they remained there in reverence. Indra, the Sādhyas, Yama, and all the gods bowed to that excellent mountain. The blessed Vāsudeva, Garuḍa’s bearer, descended and, with the best among the gods, ascended Mount Meru. The mountain itself was a place of supreme delight: free from all misfortune, ever bestowing enjoyment, alive with the jubilant cries of curlews, the sweet songs of serpents, the echo of melodious music, gentle shade, cool breezes, and waters bordered by lush groves. Hundreds of thousands of radiant mansions, shining like the sun, adorned the slopes. Elegant flocks of swans glided among dhava, khadira, palāśa, sandalwood, and other trees, while hosts of beautiful birds, cuckoos, and bees filled the air. In places, the mountain was thick with divine trees—kurabaka, priyaka, tilaka, kadamba, tamāla, and flowering vines—its many peaks covered in vibrant foliage. At the mountain’s summit, Viśvakarman had fashioned a supreme Śaiva abode, a wondrous city for the sport of Bhava, the Lord of gods. When the gods, with Indra and Upendra, beheld this city, awe filled their hearts. Even from a distance, they bowed, overwhelmed by the majesty of the trident-bearing Lord. The Lord of Kailāsa, the first among gods, entered his city at the slope of Meru—his radiance like a thousand suns, his virtues countless. The gods, with their hosts and leaders—accompanied by women, elephants, horses, and many chariots—approached the city gate, appearing as splendid as a mountain king, with Aja and Hari at their side. They gazed upon mansions of gold adorned with jewels, aerial palaces of wondrous shapes, and ramparts encircling the city. Seeing this outer city of Śambhu, Hari, Brahmā, and the assembled gods felt their hearts lift with joy and entered. Within, the second city of the God of gods rose, crowded with mansions and palaces, adorned with lofty towers and four splendid gates. The streets gleamed with networks of diamonds, beryl, rubies, and other jewels. Swinging seats, bells, and yak-tail fans added to the splendor. The air vibrated with the sounds of mṛdaṅgas and murajas, the music of vīṇās and flutes. Groups of dancing apsarases and hosts of spirits enlivened the scene, while the mansions rivaled Indra’s own palaces in beauty. Upon the palace pinnacles, thousands of city women gathered, their hands filled with flowers, fruits, and rice. They showered these offerings upon Hari’s head, honoring him as they did Bhava himself. Their eyes, intoxicated, sparkled with delight at the sight of Viṣṇu. Some women, broad-hipped and graceful, danced joyfully and sang; others smiled shyly at Hari. Some, their garments loosened and girdles slipping, sang in melodious modes—the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. Passing through the eighth, ninth, and foremost tenth gate, the gods came to the splendid city of Śambhu. Perfectly round and exceedingly bright, it stood upon the auspicious peak of Kailāsa, its palaces shining like the sun. The city was decorated in all directions with crystal and golden pavilions, and a variety of jeweled structures. The gateways of Śambhu, Lord of the guardians, were adorned with ornaments and precious gems, auspicious entrances opening on all sides. Twenty-eight kinds of ramparts, in diverse forms, encircled the city, with strong gates—both main and subsidiary—guarding every direction. Within were secret chambers, hidden houses, the splendid dwellings of Guha, and other enchanting abodes studded with pearls. There were divine shrines of Gaṇeśa made of red gems, sandalwood structures of many forms, and beautiful flower gardens. Ponds and lakes lined with golden steps were frequented by swans surpassing even women in grace. Peacocks, waterfowl, cuckoos, and chakravāka birds abounded, while reservoirs shone with waters as sweet as nectar. The city was alive with women skilled in conversation, adorned with every ornament, their forms slightly bent from the weight of their breasts, their eyes rolling with intoxication. Thousands of Rudra’s divine maidens, devoted to singing, and groups of dancing Apsarases filled the city—a company difficult even for the gods to attain. There were the best of Brahmins, surrounded by blooming lotuses, and groups of Rudra’s women delighting in water games. Others reveled in festivals and celebrations, graceful at every step, devoted to the pleasures of village life, shining like rubies. The gods, beholding these assemblies of women belonging to Bhava, the supreme soul, stood all around, filled with wonder. They saw the multitude of Rudra’s hosts, thousands of heroic leaders among them. They gazed upon the celestial palaces of the Lord of gods, with golden stairways adorned with diamonds, beryl, and crystal. Upon the palace pinnacles stood joyous women with lotus-like eyes and broad hips—Yakshas, Gandharvas, and Apsarases as well. Kinnaris and Kinnaras, serpent-beings, Siddha maidens, and others—each adorned in diverse garments and ornaments—completed the vision of divine splendor that greeted the gods as they entered the glorious city of Śambhu.