Once, there was a noble king named Anagha Vaibhraja, the illustrious ruler of the Pāñcālas. Longing for a son, he turned his heart and devotion to Hari, Nārāyaṇa, the supreme lord of the gods. With steadfast discipline and severe vows, the king worshipped the mighty one for a long time, pouring out his devotion with unwavering resolve. At last, Janārdana, pleased by the king’s devotion, appeared before him. “Choose a boon, good king—whatever your heart desires,” said the Lord. The king, with folded hands and a mind full of yearning, chose the highest of boons: “Grant me a son, O lord of gods—a son of great strength and valor, accomplished in all the scriptures, righteous, and supreme among yogis. Let him understand the speech of all beings, a true yogi as my own child.” The universal soul, the supreme lord, consented: “So be it.” Before the assembled gods, he vanished from sight. In due time, a son was born to the king—a radiant child named Brahmadatta, full of splendor and virtue. Brahmadatta grew to be compassionate to all beings, surpassing all others in strength, and uniquely blessed with the ability to understand the speech of every creature. He became the lord of all beings and even of other lords. One day, moved by his yogic powers, Brahmadatta entered the form of an ant. In that form, he came upon a pair of insects engaged in their own enjoyment. Observing them, Brahmadatta laughed, and one of the ants, astonished by this outburst, questioned him, suspecting something unusual. “O king, why did you suddenly laugh? I do not know the cause for your laughter, nor why you did this at such a time,” she asked. The prince replied, “O beautiful one, this laughter arose from the speech of the ant, which was filled with words of passion. There was no other reason for my laughter; it was not ordinary.” But the queen, feeling aggrieved, spoke falsely: “Today I alone have laughed, but now, because of you, I will not live. How could a mortal know the speech of ants without the favor of the gods? It is only by you that I have been laughed at here—what more is there to say?” Unable to answer her, the king resolved to seek guidance from Hari. He observed a strict vow and remained pure for seven nights. In a dream, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to him, and the next morning, the king wandered through his city, searching for the answer. As foretold, he encountered an aged brāhmaṇa, who, by divine instruction, knew all things completely. After imparting his wisdom, Viṣṇu vanished. The king, accompanied by his ministers and wife, left the city, and soon saw the aged brāhmaṇa approaching, speaking as he came. “We are those foremost brāhmaṇas among the Kurus in Jāṅgala, the servants in Dāśapura, the deer in Kālañjara, and the seven cakravāka birds in Mānasasaras; here we have attained perfection.” Hearing these words, the king was overcome with grief and fell to the ground. At that moment, his chief ministers remembered their past births. Among them was Bābhravya, the author of the science of love and renowned among the people as the learned Pañcāla, accomplished in all sciences despite his youth. Kaṇḍarīka, righteous and a promoter of Vedic knowledge, too recalled his past lives. Out of sorrow and awe, both fell before the king. “We have fallen from yoga, bound by desire and action!” they lamented, again and again. Yet, amazed, they praised the greatness of the śrāddha rites. In gratitude, the king bestowed wealth and many villages upon the aged brāhmaṇa and released him, honoring his wisdom. The king then installed his own son, marked by royal qualities, as king with the name Viṣvaksena. All those assembled at Mānasasaras were foremost among yogins—Brahmadatta and the others, devoted to their ancestors and free from envy, were present there. All this, indeed, was made possible by the grace of the supreme lord. Whatever fruits are desired from renouncing the kingdom, the king declared, “So be it,” affirming his approval. “By your grace, I have obtained all these results,” he said. Thereafter, all of them, dwelling in the forest, devoted themselves to yoga. Through the aperture of Brahman, by the power of asceticism, they attained the supreme state—gaining lifespan, wealth, knowledge, heaven, liberation, and happiness. Satisfied by such devotion, the ancestors grant sons and kingdoms to those who recite the greatness of the ancestors and of Brahmadatta. Whoever causes this story to be heard by the twice-born, or listens to it, or recites it, is honored in the world of Brahma for a hundred crores of kalpas. Now, a question arises: at what time does the śrāddha ceremony yield endless fruit? At which part of the day should it be performed? In which sacred places does śrāddha bring the greatest results? Whatever is given during the afternoon, when Abhijit or Rauhiṇī is rising, is declared to be imperishable. And now, O best of the twice-born, let me briefly name those sacred places that are most auspicious and dear to the ancestors. Gayā, known as the sacred place of the ancestors, is the most excellent and auspicious of all holy sites, where the Lord of gods, the Grandfather himself, resides. There, a verse was sung by the ancestors, desiring their share. Many sons should be desired, for even if only one goes to Gayā, or performs an Aśvamedha sacrifice, or releases a blue bull, it is supremely meritorious. Likewise, Vārāṇasī is holy and always dear to the ancestors, where the presence of Avimukta grants both enjoyment and liberation. Similarly, Vimaleśvara is holy and dear to the ancestors; Prayāga, the sacred place of the ancestors, bestows the fruit of all desires. At Vaṭeśvara, the blessed Lord, accompanied by Mādhava, always dwells in yogic sleep; so too does Keśava reside there. Thus, the greatness of the king, the ancestors, and the holy places is revealed, bringing blessings to all who perform, hear, or recite these sacred accounts.