Listen, O seeker, to the wondrous tale of Agastya, the sage of great renown, as it unfolded by the will of the gods. By the decree of Indra, a curse was pronounced: two divine beings, Agni and Vāyu, were destined to be born upon earth in a single human form, as sages among men. Even as humans, they were to perform mighty deeds—when, as Agastya, the ocean would be dried up, only then would divinity be restored to them. Thus, at the very moment of Indra’s curse, both Agni and Vāyu fell from the heavens and were born together in a single body, emerging from a water jar. By the combined energy of Mitra and Varuṇa, Agastya took birth as the younger brother of the illustrious sage Vasiṣṭha, and thus, Agastya, fierce in austerity, was born once more as a sage upon earth. But how did this wondrous birth come to be? How was Agastya both brother to Vasiṣṭha and son to Mitra and Varuṇa? Let the story be told. Long ago, on Mount Gandhamādana, the ancient Viṣṇu, son of Dharma, performed intense austerities. Fearing the power of his penance, Indra sent Madhava and Ananga, accompanied by hosts of apsarases, to disturb his meditation. Yet Hari remained unmoved—neither by sweet songs, nor music, nor perfumes, nor any sensual charm did he waver. Even the allurements of Madhava and Ananga could not stir desire within him. Despondent, the love-stricken apsarases faltered. To rouse them, the elder brother of men, Hari, produced from his own thigh a woman of enchanting beauty, destined to captivate the three worlds. The gods themselves were disturbed by her radiance. In the presence of the apsarases, Hari declared before all the gods, “She is an apsaras, and by the name Urvashi she shall become famed throughout the world.” Urvashi, thus manifest, was desired by Mitra. She was summoned and told, “Delight me,” to which she agreed. As she traveled through the sky, Varuṇa seized her from behind, but Urvashi did not welcome him, saying, “I was chosen by Mitra before; today I am not your wife, O lord.” Varuṇa replied, “Set your mind on me and go.” When Urvashi departed, Mitra, feeling slighted, cursed her: “Go to the world of men and unite with the son of Soma, for you have acted as a courtesan.” Thereafter, both Mitra and Varuṇa deposited their seed in a water jar, and from this union, two eminent sages were born. At another time, the king Nimi was playing dice with women when Vasiṣṭha, son of Brahma, arrived. Because the king did not honor him, Vasiṣṭha cursed Nimi to become bodiless. In turn, the king cursed Vasiṣṭha likewise. Thus, by mutual curses, their minds departed, and both went to Brahma, lord of the world, seeking release. By Brahma’s command, Nimi’s consciousness entered the eyes of beings, and thus the blinking of eyes became their rest. Vasiṣṭha, meanwhile, entered the water jar, and from there, tranquil and illustrious Agastya was born—white, four-armed, bearing an eye, a sacred thread, and a water pot. In the Malaya mountains, following the Vaikhanasa tradition, Agastya, with his wife and surrounded by brahmins, performed severe austerities. When the world was tormented by the demon Taraka, Agastya, in anger, drank up the very ocean, the abode of Varuṇa. Pleased by this act, the bestowers of boons, led by Śankara, Brahma, and blessed Viṣṇu, appeared before Agastya and said, “Choose a boon, O sage, whatever you desire.” Agastya replied, “For twenty-five crores of Brahma’s thousand-year cycles, may I dwell in a celestial vehicle on the southern path. Whoever worships me at the rising of my celestial vehicle shall become lord of the seven worlds.” The gods granted his wish and departed, and thus the wise are instructed always to offer arghya to Agastya. How, then, should this worship be performed? At dawn, after bathing at sunrise or at night, clad in white garments and garlands, and holding white sesame seeds, the devotee should prepare a flawless pot, adorned with garlands, cloth, and ornaments, filled with five kinds of gems, a vessel of ghee, various foods, fruits, and a copper vessel. Upon the mouth of the pot, a golden figure of a man the size of a thumb, with long arms, four faces, and seven kinds of grains wrapped in cloth, should be placed. Using a bronze vessel, unbroken rice, and a conch shell, the devotee, with mantra, should give this offering to a foremost Brahmin—lifting it up, with an undistracted mind, facing the south, to one with a large belly and long arms. If able, a white cow with a calf, adorned with silver hooves and a golden face, full of milk and wearing a calf-bell, should also be given, bowing to a Brahmin. These offerings should be made for seven days, or ten, or more, as some say, until the seventh sunrise. With reverence, the devotee should bow to Agastya: “Resembling the flower of the Kāśa plant, born of fire and wind, son of Mitra and Varuṇa, O pot-born one, I bow to you. O lord of gods, beloved of jewels, who causes the growth and decay of the Vindhya, remover of clouds, water, and poison, resident of Lanka, I bow to you. To him who consumed Vātāpi, who once dried up the ocean, the glorious lord of Lopamudrā—again and again I bow to him. O princess, greatly fortunate, wife of the sage, beautiful-faced Lopamudrā, I bow to you; accept my arghya.” He who performs this rite every year does not fall, and the offering bears fruit. After performing the homa, one should refrain from eating the fruit; whoever offers arghya according to this rule attains this world, endowed with beauty and health, then the world of Bhuvar, and finally, the highest heaven. Thus is the sacred story of Agastya, his wondrous birth, his mighty deeds, and the worship that brings blessings to those who remember him.