Hearing her husband’s words, which were filled with longing, his noble-born, greatly fortunate, and devoted wife listened attentively. With utmost care, she secured her garments, took with her some extra payment, and, lifting her husband upon her shoulder, set out on her journey, moving with gentle determination. It was night, the sky shrouded in clouds and pierced by flashes of lightning. Yet, driven by her wish to please her husband, this twice-born woman walked along the royal road, undaunted by the darkness and the storm. As she made her way, she came upon a grievous sight: on the path, impaled upon a stake, was a thief, suspected of wrongdoing. There too was Māṇḍavya, a twice-born sage, suffering terribly in the gloom. As Kauśika carried her husband past, Māṇḍavya, in pain and anger from his wounded feet, spoke out in wrath. “Who is it,” he cried, “that has so tormented me, shaking and distressing me by their feet, bringing me to this wretched state? That sinful, lowly man—” He pronounced a dire curse: “At sunrise, he will lose his life, without doubt. Merely by seeing the sun, he will meet his destruction.” Kauśika’s wife, hearing this dreadful curse directed at her husband, was shaken with distress. Out of love and desperation, she declared, “Then the sun will not rise.” And so it was: the sun did not rise, and night continued unbroken for many days. The gods became fearful, for without the coming of day, the sacred recitations, the offerings to ancestors and gods, and all the rituals that sustain the world could not take place. The very order of creation was threatened. Without the division of day and night, the months and seasons could not progress, and without their completion, the southern and northern courses of the sun could not be known. Without this knowledge, how could the year—which is the very measure of time—be understood? And without the year, all other understanding of time ceased. By the word of the devoted wife, the sun remained hidden. Without sunrise, daily acts of virtue—such as bathing, giving gifts, and other sacred duties—were left undone. Without the movement of fire, sacrifices could not be performed, and the offering of oblations was interrupted, halting the very course of the world. The gods lamented: “We are nourished by mortals through their sacrifices; with rain, we favor them in return, granting them crops and prosperity. Mortals worship us with the plants they have grown, and, being honored by their offerings, we fulfill their desires. We send rain down to the earth, and mortals offer their oblations upward; thus, we and they sustain each other.” “But those wicked ones who greedily consume the sacrificial portion themselves, neglecting the regular and occasional rites, bring ruin upon themselves. For their destruction, we corrupt the very elements—water, sun, fire, wind, and earth. Consuming these corrupted elements, evil-doers bring upon themselves fierce calamities and death. But those who please us and then partake of the remainder, we reward with blessed worlds, for they are noble souls.” “Yet, none of this can exist without the establishment of day. How, then, can day be created?” Thus the gods spoke among themselves, deeply troubled. As the assembled gods, fearing the end of sacrifice and the collapse of order, considered these matters, Prajapati addressed them: “Power is subdued only by greater power, and austerity by greater austerity. Therefore, O immortals, listen. By the greatness of a devoted wife, the sun does not rise, and because of this, hunger afflicts both mortals and you, the gods.” “Therefore, approach that devoted and ascetic wife. Propitiate Anasuya, the wife of Bhanu, so the sun may rise again.” Following his counsel, the gods went to Anasuya and entreated her: “Let the day return as before; let the sunrise occur once more.” Anasuya replied, “How could the greatness of a devoted wife be diminished? Therefore, honoring that virtuous woman, I shall restore the day, O gods.” And just as the cycle of day and night returned, so too did the assurance that the husband of a virtuous woman would never come to ruin. Having spoken thus, the auspicious Anasuya returned to her dwelling. After being welcomed and asked about her well-being, she inquired into the righteousness of her host and herself. She asked, “Are you happy, O blessed one, from seeing your husband’s face? And do you regard your husband as superior to all the gods?” She continued, “It is solely through service to my husband that I have attained great merit and the fulfillment of all desires, with every obstacle removed.” “O virtuous one! A person should always offer five daily sacrifices and, according to their class and duty, accumulate wealth. When wealth is obtained, it should be properly distributed to the deserving. One should always be endowed with truth, honesty, austerity, charity, and compassion.” “Actions prescribed by the scriptures, free from attachment and aversion, should be performed daily with faith and to the best of one’s ability. Each person attains only those worlds prescribed for their own birth, and with great effort, reaches the worlds beginning with Prajapati, in due order.” “But women, by serving their husbands, take away half the merit of all the virtuous deeds arduously earned by men. There is no separate sacrifice, no ancestral offering, nor fasting for women; by serving their husbands alone, they attain the desired worlds.” “Therefore, O virtuous and greatly fortunate one, you should always keep your mind intent on serving your husband, for the husband is the highest goal. Whatever worship or honor a husband performs for the gods or ancestors, a woman of undivided mind partakes in half of that, solely by serving her husband.” Thus, the greatness of a devoted wife was revealed to gods and mortals alike, and the order of the world was restored.