May you be blessed with well-being—may success crown your austerities, and may happiness come to you as you desire. With this benediction, the royal sage, his heart filled with supreme joy, entered the forest, seeking solitude for the pursuit of rigorous penance. He journeyed to the great and sacred place known as Nadeshvara, where he undertook exceedingly difficult austerities. There, he was ever respectful to guests and unwavering in his devotion to the sacred fire offerings. Each day, three times, he worshipped Hari with leaves, flowers, fruits, and pure water. Sustained only by fallen leaves, his mind ever fixed on Narayana, he meditated deeply. In time, he intensified his penance to the point where he ceased even to breathe, sustaining this practice for sixty thousand years, intent on the control of his breath. The magnitude of his austerity struck awe and fear into the hearts of all the gods, including Agni and the ancestors. They were deeply unsettled and so, with reverence, they praised and bowed to the Lord of gods, the eternal protector of those who seek refuge. The wise declared him to be pure by nature, complete in being, and the very embodiment of knowledge. To him—the universal form, the lord at the beginning of the world, Puruṣottama—they bowed. They offered salutations to that venerable lord, the ancient person, Viṣṇu, for the fulfillment of all human goals. They bowed to him, the soul of time, the lord of the gods, who is the very form of human aims, and to that primeval deity, the abode of all qualities, the teacher of all, the refuge of the infinite. To the god whose nature is existence, consciousness, and supreme bliss, who is without form or attributes, they bowed. They revered that supreme, imperishable one, beloved of sacrifices, performer of sacrifices, and purest of all. The Lord then revealed the deeds of the royal sage to the gods. Narada, the divine sage, went to the place where the king was practicing his severe austerities. There, the teacher of all worlds appeared before the king, adorned with shining earrings, radiant as a fully blossomed flower, bearing the mark of Śrīvatsa and the Kaustubha gem, and decorated with a garland of forest flowers. The king, overwhelmed by the divine presence, bowed low, prostrating himself on the ground. Again and again he uttered, “Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Śrī Kṛṣṇa,” his voice trembling with devotion. The blessed creator of beings, filled with compassion, spoke to him: “Your forefathers will come to my world. Offer them praise, for whatever you desire, they will immediately accomplish for you. Therefore, worship the Lord with hymns—he is worthy of praise and bestows happiness. O king, when you honor him, he will at once grant you prosperity.” With these words, the foremost sage vanished from sight, and the king rose, filled with amazement and wonder, pondering, “What should I do?” Yet, he knew in his heart that all this was certainly true, and he dismissed all doubt. Absorbed in devotion, the king began to praise the Lord of all gods. He worshipped the Lord—the very essence of Om, who is beyond the reach of proof. He bowed to the universal form, addressing him as Virupaksha, the one of fierce seed. He honored the one proclaimed by the lords of yoga, the increaser of strength. He offered salutations to the blue-throated one, homage to the lord of beasts, and to the one beyond creation and dissolution, the lord of all beings. He bowed to the one who holds a skull, the noose, and the club, and to the five-faced god, the lord of the fields. Thus, with unwavering devotion and reverence, the king worshipped the supreme Lord, seeking his blessings and grace.