Caṇḍikā, the mother revered by all worlds, the destroyer of Śumbha and Niśumbha, was renowned as the swift and solitary vanquisher of demons for those who bowed to her on earth. Her form, unconquered and incomparable, blazed along the path of the wind in the heavens and upon the earth. She was the creator of the worlds, beloved of Bhava, and to her, all beings—oceans with lively waves, radiant fires, moving and unmoving creatures, and the thousand-hooded serpents—spoke her name, a name that struck fear into the hearts of the wicked. O blessed one, refuge of the devoted, I have come to your feet for shelter, seeking that my actions may be unwavering and that I may attain even a trace of the fruits of your praise. Pleased by these words of praise from Vīraka, the goddess—daughter of the mountain—entered the auspicious abode of her husband. Rudra beheld Mahāgaurī, the beautiful Gaurī, whose form, graceful as a wild elephant, bewildered the mind. Her face shone like the full moon, her body slender at the waist yet full and radiant, adorned with every ornament, and her gentle charm overflowed like nectar. In her presence, Rudra was filled with desire, anxiety, and dejection, yet also with heroism and a fierce, terrifying aspect. He became at once compassionate, smiling, dreadful, and strange; wishing to fulfill the gods’ command, he assumed a terrifying form. Gaurī, too, revealed herself as Bhairavi, matching the god’s might, and the mountain-dweller witnessed her manifest thousands of forms. When these thousand forms were withdrawn, and Parvati showed her star-like form, Shankara’s doubts vanished. Seeing her, the very embodiment of the universe, he rejoiced, for he had regained his beloved wife, Himavat’s daughter, after a long separation. For a thousand years, the two remained secluded, their divine play unbroken, arising from many causes. Vīraka, standing at the door, respectfully turned away the gods who came to see Hara, telling them, “There is no opportunity here, O gods; the bull-bannered one is playing privately with the goddess.” Thus, the gods departed as they had come. When a thousand years had passed, the gods, eager to know what Shankara was doing, urged Agni to discover the truth. Agni entered through a lattice opening, assuming the form of a boar, and saw Sharva lying with Girija. The lord of the gods noticed Agni in the form of a boar and, somewhat angered, spoke to him: “Half of my semen has been discharged in the goddess; because she stopped out of shame, you must drink the other half. Since you caused this interruption, it falls upon you.” So addressed, Agni, with joined palms, drank the potent seed. From this, the gods themselves became filled, each according to their own form, and splitting open their bellies, the seed of Maheshvara emerged. When it came forth, glowing like molten gold, it spread out in Shankara’s hermitage and formed a great, pure, and vast lake. This lake, adorned with golden lotuses in full bloom and resounding with the songs of many birds, drew the curiosity of the goddess. She approached the golden lake, played in its waters, and adorned herself with a garland of lotuses. Seated on the bank with her companions, she wished to drink and saw the sweet, pure water, decorated with lotuses. There, she saw the radiant Krittikas, shining like six suns, who had bathed and taken water from the lotus leaf to their home. With delight, the goddess said, “I see milk resting on the lotus leaf.” The Krittikas explained everything to the daughter of the mountain, saying, “If a child is born to you, we shall give him to you, but let him also be our son, bearing our names, and let him be renowned in all the worlds, O auspicious one.” Girija replied, “How can a son born from my body, possessing all limbs, belong to you all?” The Krittikas answered, “We will provide him with the finest limbs; if that is so, let it be.” The daughter of the mountain agreed, and the delighted Krittikas gave her the milk resting on the lotus leaf. She drank the water gradually, and then, in that lake, the goddess split open her right side. From it emerged a wondrous child, illuminating all the worlds. He shone like the sun, radiant as gold, holding a pure, sharp spear, and possessed six faces. Brilliant and golden, he was born to destroy vile demons, and by divine will, he became known as Kumara. Again, splitting her left side, the goddess’s son emerged as a child; from Skanda’s mouth, from Agni’s seed, came the enemy-slayer with a beautiful face. Because of his union with the Krittikas, he was especially called ‘Shakha’; these names were spread among his six faces. Thus, in the world, he is known as Vishakha, six-faced, Skanda, six-mouthed, and Kartikeya, famed everywhere. On the fifteenth day of the bright half of Chaitra, these two mighty ones, radiant as the sun, were born in the vast forest of reeds. Then, on the fifth day of the bright half of Chaitra, Paka-shasana, considering the two boys, performed a rite to establish them as leaders.