In ancient times, the earth yielded her treasures in wondrous ways. The gandharvas and groups of apsarases came together and, with Citraratha as their calf, drew from the earth its most exquisite fragrance, collecting it upon lotus leaves. Vararuci, master of the Nāṭyaveda, milked the earth on behalf of the mountains, and from this act, various precious gems emerged. Meru, the great mountain, then became the milker of divine herbs, with Himavat as the calf and a vessel of stone to hold the bounty. The trees, too, milked the earth, drawing forth nourishing sap for their cut shoots; their vessel was made of palāśa wood, and the milker was the Śāla tree, adorned with flowering creepers. Plakṣa became the calf, and the lord of all trees served as the milker, allowing others to draw from the earth whatever they wished. During the reign of King Pṛthu, the world flourished in peace and prosperity. People lived long, wealthy, and happy lives; none were poor, sick, or wicked. Calamity was unknown, and joy prevailed everywhere, with suffering and sorrow banished from the land. Seeking the welfare of his people, mighty Pṛthu used the tip of his bow to clear away the great mountains, leveling the earth’s surface. In those days, there were no cities, villages, or fortresses, nor did men bear arms. There was no excessive suffering from decay, nor any preoccupation with the science of wealth. Righteousness alone guided the people, and the vessels and milk of the earth were as described. Whatever the people desired, the wise and discerning Pṛthu provided, ensuring that all offerings, whether in sacrifice or to the ancestors, were made with care. Because Pṛthu accepted the earth as his daughter, and through their mutual affection, she became renowned among the wise as Pṛthivī. O Sūta, now tell of the illustrious lineages of the Sun and the Moon. Vivasvān, born from Kaśyapa and Aditi, had three wives: Saṃjñā, his queen; Prabhā; and another. Saṃjñā, daughter of Raivata, bore a son named Revata; Prabhā bore Prabhāta; and from Saṃjñā and Tvaṣṭrī came Manu. Saṃjñā also bore twins, Yama and Yamunā, but found herself unable to endure the fierce radiance of Vivasvān. So Tvaṣṭrī, the divine artisan, created from Saṃjñā’s own form an unblemished and radiant woman named Chāyā, who resembled Saṃjñā exactly. Saṃjñā instructed Chāyā to serve her husband as her own and to care for her children with a mother’s affection. Then, the virtuous Saṃjñā departed to the realm of the gods. Vivasvān, believing Chāyā to be Saṃjñā, begot in her a son like Manu, named Sāvarṇi for his similar hue. In due course, from Chāyā were also born Śani, Tapatī, and Viṣṭi. Chāyā, however, favored her own children over Manu. Manu, the elder, did not notice, but Yama, angered by her partiality, threatened her by raising his right foot. In her wrath, Chāyā cursed Yama, declaring that his foot would be afflicted with wounds, oozing pus and blood, and beset by worms. Distressed, Yama went to his father and complained that he had been cursed without just cause. He explained that in childishness he had merely raised his foot, and though Manu tried to intervene, the curse was pronounced. Yama lamented, believing Chāyā was not truly their mother. Vivasvān replied, reflecting on the frailties of existence and the inevitability of suffering, even for the wise. To ease Yama’s affliction, the rooster was given the task of devouring the worms, removing the moisture and blood, and consuming the pests. Thereafter, Yama, renowned and steadfast, undertook severe austerities at the sacred Gokarna, subsisting only on leaves and wind, out of detachment. He worshipped Mahadeva for tens of thousands of years, and, pleased with his devotion, Mahadeva granted him a boon. Yama chose the guardianship of the world, sovereignty over the realm of the ancestors, and the role of judge over righteousness and unrighteousness. Thus, Yama became guardian of the world, lord of the ancestors, and overseer of justice, as granted by the trident-bearing Lord. Meanwhile, Vivasvān, learning of Saṃjñā’s actions, went to Tvaṣṭrī in anger and recounted all that had happened. Tvaṣṭrī responded with soothing words, acknowledging the unbearable brilliance of Vivasvān, which dispelled even the deepest darkness. He explained that Saṃjñā, in the form of a mare, had come to him, and though she was restrained, so too was the Sun. Because Saṃjñā came to him unrecognized, Tvaṣṭrī declared that Vivasvān could not enter his abode. Thus, Saṃjñā, blameless, departed to the desert, assuming the form of a mare and settling upon the earth. Tvaṣṭrī then offered to help Vivasvān, promising to remove some of his radiance and place it in a device, so that his form would be pleasing to the worlds. Having thus spoken, Tvaṣṭrī circled the Sun, fulfilling his promise.