Because of her transgression, the sage’s anger burned fiercely. He pronounced a curse upon the proud Apsaras: “Tainted by my wrath, you shall be born for sixteen years in the race of birds, O foolish one. Abandon your celestial form and assume the shape of a bird. In that life, you will have four sons, O lowest of Apsarases. Yet, you will find no joy among them. Through this ordeal, you shall be purified, and then, freed from this suffering, you will regain your place in heaven. But until then, you must not utter a single word in reply.” Having uttered this harsh and unbearable curse, his eyes red with anger, the sage departed, leaving her trembling. Her mind was as agitated as the waves of a restless river. In time, she took birth among the birds, becoming renowned for her many virtues, even in that new form. Now, in the Treta age, there lived a royal sage named Harishchandra. He was a ruler of the earth, whose noble fame shone forth, steadfast in righteousness. Under his reign, there was no famine, no disease, and no untimely death among the people. The citizens were not inclined toward unrighteousness; none were intoxicated by wealth, strength, or asceticism. No women were born who had not attained youth. One day, this mighty-armed king was pursuing a deer in the forest when he heard the repeated cries of women calling, “Save us!” Leaving aside the deer, the king called out, “Do not fear! Who, while I rule, would dare commit such wickedness and injustice?” Following the sound of their cries, Harishchandra encountered the cause of all obstacles: a fierce being, who began to ponder deeply. “Here is Vishvamitra,” he thought, “possessing unmatched ascetic power and strength, striving with patience, silence, and control of mind to attain the knowledge once held by the gods. As he perseveres, those women, terrified, cry out—what should I do?” The being considered further: “The powerful Kauśika is protected by horses, while we are exceedingly weak; these frightened ones cry out, and it seems impossible for me to cross. Or perhaps this king has arrived, repeatedly assuring ‘Do not fear.’ I will quickly enter him and accomplish whatever I desire.” With this thought, the fierce lord of obstacles possessed King Harishchandra. Overcome by anger, the king spoke harshly: “Who is this wicked man, burning like fire at the edge of his garment, blazing with strength and energy, while I, the master, am present? Today, pierced by arrows from my bow, which illuminate all directions, he will be struck down, his body shattered, and enter a long sleep.” Upon hearing these words, Vishvamitra became angry. As the sage’s wrath grew, the knowledge he had been cultivating vanished in an instant. The king, beholding Vishvamitra—the very embodiment of ascetic treasure—was suddenly seized by great fear and trembled like the leaves of an ashvattha tree. The sage declared, “You are wicked!” and stood before him. Out of humility, the king bowed and spoke, “Revered one, this is my duty, not a fault. O master, do not be angry with me, who is devoted to my own dharma. A king who knows righteousness must give and protect, and, raising his bow, must fight according to the rules of dharma.” Vishvamitra replied, “To whom should gifts be given? Whom should be protected? By whom should battles be fought, O king? Quickly tell me this, if you fear unrighteousness.” Harishchandra answered, “Gifts should be given to eminent Brahmins and to others who are poor. Those who are afraid must always be protected, and battles must be fought against robbers.” Vishvamitra said, “If you are a king who rightly observes royal duty, and I, a Brahmin, wish to perform a rite, then let the desired offering be given.” At this, the birds—who had been listening—remarked, “Hearing these words of the king, joy filled his heart, as if he were reborn, and he spoke again to Kauśika: ‘Speak, O revered one, what you wish to be given, without hesitation. Know that it is already granted, even if it is exceedingly difficult to obtain—be it gold, jewels, my son, wife, body, life, kingdom, city, or wealth—whatever you desire.’” Vishvamitra replied, “O king, the offering you have given is accepted. First, grant me the royal sacrificial gift.” The king responded, “O Brahmin, I will indeed give you that sacrificial gift. Choose, O best of twice-born, whatever offering you desire.” Vishvamitra then demanded, “The earth with its oceans, its rulers, villages, and cities—the entire kingdom, O hero, filled with chariots, horses, and elephants—the treasury and storehouses, and whatever else belongs to you, except your wife, son, and body, O sinless one. And the virtue, O knower of all dharma, that follows one who departs. Why say more? Let all this be given.” The birds observed, “With a joyful mind and an unchanged face, the king, hearing the sage’s words, replied ‘so be it,’ with joined palms.” Vishvamitra pressed further, “If you have given me everything—kingdom, land, strength, wealth—who, O royal sage, holds authority when the ascetic is established in the kingdom?” Harishchandra replied, “Even when I gave land to a Brahmin at any time, you were its master then; how much more so now, O king?” Vishvamitra said, “If you have given me all the earth, O king, wherever my authority prevails, you must depart from there.” Obediently, Harishchandra left behind all ornaments, including girdles and sacred threads, and donned bark garments, together with his wife Śaivya and his young son. The birds recounted, “Saying ‘so be it’ and doing as he had promised, the king began to depart, accompanied by his wife Śaivya and his young son. But as he was leaving, someone blocked his path and said to the king: ‘Where are you going, without giving me the royal sacrificial gift?