Upamanyu, still a child, listened as his mother spoke of the ways of the world. She explained that those who neglect the worship of Shiva are denied the most cherished blessings—kingdom, heaven, liberation, and even the food produced from milk. Shiva, she said, is never pleased with them, and without his grace, none of these treasures can be attained. The favor of other gods is powerless; only Shiva's grace brings fulfillment. Those devoted to other deities, she warned, suffer and wander in delusion, unable to find true satisfaction. She lamented, “How could we have milk here, my son, when Mahadeva has not been worshipped? Only what was earned in a previous birth by worshipping Shiva can be obtained now. Nothing else, not even by worshipping Vishnu, the Lord, will yield the desired results.” Upon hearing his mother’s words, radiant Upamanyu, though just a child, bowed to his ascetic mother and spoke with resolve, “Do not grieve, O blessed one; Mahadeva exists somewhere. Whether it takes a long time or happens soon, I will obtain the ocean of milk.” Bowing to her, he began his austerities. His mother, seeing his determination, encouraged him, “Perform auspicious acts,” and gave her special permission. Thus, with her consent, Upamanyu undertook severe austerities. He traveled to Mount Himavat, sustained only by air, and concentrated deeply. His austerity was so intense that it shook the entire world. The gods, witnessing this, bowed and spoke to Hari, the blessed Supreme Person. Hearing their words, Hari wondered what was happening. Understanding the reason, he quickly went to Mandara, desiring to see Maheshvara. Upon seeing the god, Hari bowed and, with joined palms, addressed him: “Lord, there is a certain brahmin named Upamanyu, so it is heard. He has given all for the sake of milk; restrain him from his austerity.” Meanwhile, Shiva, the Supreme Lord, Pinaki, resolved to intervene. He assumed the form of Shakra, the king of the gods, and, accompanied by gods, asuras, siddhas, and great serpents, rode a great white elephant to Upamanyu’s forest of austerity. Shachi sat at his left, and a white parasol was held in his other hand. Shiva, in the form of Shakra, shone brilliantly, like Mandara illuminated by the moon. Thus disguised as Shakra, the Supreme Lord went to Upamanyu’s hermitage, intending to bestow his grace. When Upamanyu saw the Lord bearing Shakra’s form, he bowed deeply and spoke, “This hermitage is purified, for the Lord of gods himself has come; Shakra, Lord of the universe, the blessed, radiant master.” Seeing the brahmin standing with joined palms, Hara, in the form of Shakra, addressed him with grave words: “I am pleased with you; ask a boon, O steadfast one. By this austerity, I will grant you all you desire, O wise elder brother of Dhaumya.” Upamanyu, the best of sages, replied, “I choose devotion to Shiva as my boon.” Hearing this, the Lord, still bearing Shakra’s form and appearing somewhat angry, spoke with agitation: “Do you not know me, O divine sage? I am the king of the gods, Shakra, ruler of the three worlds, honored by all the gods. Become my devotee, O best of brahmins; always worship me. I will grant you all good things; abandon Rudra, the attributeless one.” Upamanyu listened to Shakra’s words, which pierced his ears, and responded by reciting the auspicious five-syllable mantra. He declared, “I think surely someone has come here in the form of Shakra, some lowly demon, to obstruct dharma; it cannot be otherwise. It was you yourself who, out of a tendency to revile, happened to declare everything about the supreme god’s transcendence and greatness. What more need be said by me here? Today I have understood the great sin committed against Bhava, namely, the slander of Bhava that I heard.” He continued, “Upon hearing slander of Bhava, one should immediately abandon their own body at that very moment; by doing so, killing themselves, they swiftly attain Shiva’s world. Whoever tears out the tongue of one who delights in slandering Shiva, after uplifting twenty-one generations, goes to Shiva’s world. Let my desire for milk be set aside for now; O lowest of the gods, having slain you with Shiva’s weapon, I shall abandon this body. Long ago, my mother truly told me, without doubt, that in a previous birth we failed to worship the Lord.” Having spoken thus, Upamanyu, fearless, resolved to kill Indra with the Atharvan missile, being skilled in mantras. The mighty sage, adorned with ashes, took up a handful of ashes and, invoking the Atharvan missile, directed it at Shakra and roared. Then, intent on burning his own body, he meditated upon the fiery concentration, standing firm like dry fuel, inexhaustible. As the brahmin thus resolved, the Lord, destroyer of Bhaga’s eye, gently restrained the yogi’s concentration. By the order of Nandī and Candraka, the Atharvan missile, blazing like the fire of time, was withdrawn. At last, the blessed Supreme Lord revealed his true form to the brahmin, crowned with the crescent moon. He stood there, surrounded on all sides by a thousand streams of milk, the ocean of milk, the ocean of curds, the ocean of clarified butter, the ocean of fruits for the boy, the ocean of foods to eat and enjoy, and mountains of cakes—all standing around, fulfilling every wish.