Let me tell you the story of Brahmadatta and the mysterious lineage of the four chakravāka birds. Long ago, in a certain city, there lived four brothers known as the chakras. They were born into the lineage of an aged, twice-born brāhmaṇa. Though their family was poor, these brothers were ancient souls—brahmins who remembered their past lives, steadfast in their pursuit of truth, well-versed in the Vedas, and eager for austerity. By both name and deed, they were the sons of a very poor man. One day, a thought arose among those devoted brāhmins: “Let us undertake austerities so that we may attain the highest perfection.” Hearing their resolve, their father, the great ascetic Sudaridra, spoke to them in a pitiable voice, “What is this, my children?” He told them that their plan was unrighteous and forbade them from going. But the poor brothers, determined, left their aged father behind and went to dwell in the forest to pursue their austerities. They asked their father, “What indeed is righteousness here? Is there any path in abandoning the living? Tell us, father, what livelihood have you devised for us?” Their father replied, “This wealth before you belongs to the king. If you recite in the morning, he will grant you abundant riches and thousands of villages.” The brothers, reflecting on their father’s words, spoke of their attainments: “We are those foremost Brahmins in Kurujāṅgala, the servants in Dāśapura, the deer in Kālañjara, and the seven chakravāka birds in Mānasā—here we are accomplished.” Having said this, they again set out for the forest to pursue their austerities, while their aged father went to the royal palace to seek his own purpose. Meanwhile, there was a king named Anagha Vaibhraja, lord of the Pāñcālas. Desiring a son, he devoted himself to worshipping Hari, Nārāyaṇa, the lord of the gods, following severe vows for a long time. At last, Janārdana was pleased with his devotion and appeared before him, saying, “Choose a boon, good king, whatever your heart desires.” The king bowed and asked for the highest boon: “Grant me a son, lord of gods, of great strength and valor, accomplished in all scriptures, righteous, and supreme among yogis. Let him be one who understands the speech of all beings, a true yogi as my child.” “So be it,” said the universal soul, the supreme lord. Before all the gods, he vanished. In due time, a radiant son was born to the king—Brahmadatta. Brahmadatta grew to be compassionate to all beings, surpassing all in strength, understanding the speech of all creatures, and becoming lord among beings and lords. One day, Brahmadatta, master of yogic power, entered the form of an ant. In this tiny form, he encountered a pair of insects enjoying themselves. Observing them, he laughed. The female ant, surprised by his laughter, questioned him, “O king, why did you suddenly laugh? I do not know the cause for it, nor why you did this at such a time.” The prince replied, “This laughter arose, O beautiful one, from the speech of the ant, which was filled with words of passion. There was no other reason for my laughter.” The queen, however, spoke falsely, saying, “Today, I alone have laughed; now, because of you, I will not live. How could a mortal know the speech of ants without the gods? Therefore, it is only by you that I have been laughed at—what more is there to say?” The king, left without an answer, wished to seek guidance from Hari. He observed a vow, remaining pure for seven nights. In a dream, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to him, and in the morning, he wandered the city. The divine voice had told him that an aged brāhmaṇa, guided by that instruction, would reveal all to him. After this, Viṣṇu disappeared. The next morning, the king left the city with his ministers and wife. On the way, he saw an aged brāhmaṇa approaching, speaking as he walked: “We are those foremost brāhmaṇas among the Kurus in Jāṅgala, the servants in Dāśapura, the deer in Kālañjara, and the seven chakravāka birds in Mānasasaras; here we have attained perfection.” Hearing these words, the king fell down in grief. At that moment, both of his chief ministers suddenly recalled their past births. Among them was Bābhravya, the author of the science of love, known among the people as the learned Pañcāla, skilled in all sciences even in his youth. There was also Kaṇḍarīka, righteous and a promoter of Vedic knowledge, who too remembered his past lives. Out of sorrow, both fell before the king, lamenting, “Alas, we have fallen from yoga, bound by desire and action!” Again and again, these three—accomplished in yoga—lamented their fall. Amazed, they repeatedly praised the greatness of the śrāddha. Then, granting wealth and many villages to the aged brāhmaṇa, the king released him, now endowed with riches. The king then installed his own son, who bore all the marks of royalty, as king with the name Viṣvaksena. All those assembled at Mānasasaras were the foremost of yogins. Brahmadatta and the others, devoted to their ancestors and free from envy, were all present. Indeed, this gathering and these events were caused by my own will. Whatever fruits are desired from renouncing the kingdom—the king granted all, saying again, “So be it.” Grateful, he declared, “By your grace, I have obtained all these results.” Then, all those great souls, dwelling in the forest, took up yoga. Through the aperture of Brahman, by the power of their asceticism, they attained the supreme state—lifespan, wealth, knowledge, heaven, liberation, and happiness. Thus, satisfied ancestors grant sons and kingdoms to those men who, O twice-born, recite this greatness of the ancestors and of Brahmadatta.