The young girl stood before her mother, her head trembling slightly, silent and withdrawn. Sensing her daughter’s hesitation, the mother spoke gently, “Child, bow to this divine sage. Then I shall give you the beautiful jeweled toy, long cherished and delightful, which I have kept for you.” Urged by her mother’s words, the girl quickly rose and, with hands as delicate as lotus buds, placed them upon the sage’s feet and bowed low, touching her head to them in reverence. When she had thus offered her respects, her mother, through her companions, encouraged those nearby to praise the girl’s good fortune with gentle words. Yet, curiosity stirred in the mother’s heart—a natural impulse, heightened by a woman’s affection—wondering about the marks on her daughter’s body and what they might foretell. Though she spoke nothing aloud, her husband, the mountain king Himācala, understood her thoughts and found them pleasing. At this moment, prompted by the queen’s companion, the great sage Nārada smiled and addressed the mountain king: “O gentle one, no husband is born for her; she is without auspicious marks. Her hands are always open, her feet unsteady; she will exist by her own shadow. What more need be said?” Hearing this pronouncement, the mighty mountain king was overcome with agitation, his courage crumbling. With a voice choked by tears, he spoke to Nārada: “The course of worldly existence is full of faults and difficult to understand. Since creation is inevitable, it must be brought about by some extraordinary agent. The creator sets boundaries for all beings; for whatever is born from a seed, if the originator is absent, that birth is meaningless. “Yet, it is clear that no one is truly the creator of what is born; all living beings are produced by their own actions. An egg-born arises from another egg-born; a human may be born again, and from a human, one may be born among reptiles, retaining human nature. Among these births, the highest is attained through righteousness; the rest remain as those who have not produced offspring. “Among them, humans are born who do not follow the duties of householders; in due order, they reach the stages of life, beginning with the vow of the student. By the command of the agent who increases worldly existence, how can the world grow if all are excessively restrained? Therefore, the scriptures praise the begetting of sons, as a refuge from the torments of hell and a consequence of beings’ delusion. “The creation of living beings does not occur without women. By nature, the female is pitiable and speaks of her own misery, and the creator has deprived them of discernment regarding the meaning of scripture. It is stated unmistakably and repeatedly that a virtuous daughter is equal to ten sons, and this brings great reward. But in truth, this statement brings only distress to men, for a daughter is pitiable and increases her father’s sorrow. “Even if she is endowed with all qualities—a husband, sons, wealth—what of the unfortunate one deprived of these? And you say my daughter is a collection of bodily faults. Alas, I am bewildered; I wither, I am exhausted, I sink, O Nārada! It is not proper to speak what is unfit or unattainable at this time; by your compassion, sage, cut off the sorrow that has come to me through my daughter. “Even when the mind is clear, it becomes a seat of humiliation; craving, rooted in the desire for results, seizes and corrupts it. For women, the highest birth in noble and ordinary families is said to be for happiness here and hereafter, and is known as the attainment of a worthy husband. But a worthy husband is rare; even an unworthy one is difficult to obtain. Without merit, a husband is never attained by a woman. “Wherever righteousness lacks means, pleasure lacks measure, and wealth is only sufficient for life, the wife’s foundation is established in her husband. Even a husband who is destitute, unfortunate, foolish, and lacking all marks is declared by the gods to be supreme for a woman. “But, O divine sage, you have said that for her no husband is born. This unparalleled misfortune is countless, weighty, and hard to endure. In the creation of moving and unmoving beings, you say that even now he is not born; because of this, my mind is troubled. “Among humans and gods, the signs that reveal auspicious and inauspicious outcomes are established by marks on the hands and feet. You have called her ‘with upturned hands,’ and such hands are always spoken of as belonging to those who beg. For those with auspicious birth and fortune, who never give, you have said her feet, by their own shadow, are adulterous. “Even so, hope for the best does not appear to us; other bodily marks indicate different results. The signs of good fortune, wealth, sons, lifespan, and the acquisition of a husband—all these you have said she is deprived of. You know all about me and always speak the truth; O tiger among sages, I am bewildered and my heart seems to break.” Having spoken thus, King Himācala ceased his pondering, his heart full of sorrow. Hearing all this from the mountain king’s lotus-like face, Nārada, prompted by the gods, replied with a gentle smile. “Even in a place of great joy, you describe sorrow; with the meaning of your words unclear, you fall into delusion, O great mountain. Hear now, with your mind attentive, the secret meaning of what I have spoken. “O Himācala, when I said that no husband is born for your daughter, I meant this: the great god, Mahādeva—origin of past, present, and future, refuge, eternal, teacher, Śaṃkara, supreme lord—is not born.