Nārada, the divine sage, continued his narration. He described how, when praised by the foremost of Brāhmaṇas, Lord Śambhu—Śiva—drew back the terrible fire from his eye, the very fire that could consume the three worlds. Addressing the Brāhmaṇa with kindness, Śiva said, “Choose a boon, O Brāhmaṇa. Your praise has pleased me. By restoring Indra’s life, you shall gain lasting fame even in this world.” Bṛhaspati, the wise Brāhmaṇa, replied, “If you are truly pleased, O Lord, let the fire born from your forehead, which has now sought refuge with Indra, be pacified.” Śiva responded, “This fire, having entered my third eye, cannot simply return. Instead, I shall cast it far away, so that Indra is no longer troubled by it.” Having spoken thus, Śiva took the fierce fire in his hand and cast it into the salty ocean, precisely at the confluence where the sacred river Gaṅgā meets the sea. There, the fire assumed the form of a child and began to cry so loudly that the earth itself trembled repeatedly at the sound. The heavens and even the world of truth were deafened by the child’s wailing. Hearing this astonishing sound, Brahmā himself descended to discover its cause. Arriving at the shore, Brahmā saw the wondrous child lying on the lap of the ocean. The ocean, seeing Brahmā approach, respectfully joined his palms and bowed his head, placing the child on his lap before Brahmā. Brahmā asked, “Whose marvelous child is this?” In response, the ocean explained, “O Brahmā, this mighty child was born in the river Gaṅgā and is now my son. His cry has terrified gods, demons, and great serpents alike.” Brahmā then instructed, “Perform for him the birth and other sacred rites, O teacher of the world.” As the ocean spoke, the child, the son of the ocean, suddenly seized Brahmā’s water-pot and shook it vigorously. As he did so, water streamed from his eyes. Brahmā, managing to free his pot, addressed the ocean, “Because this water was held by him with his eyes, he shall be known as Jalandhara.” Brahmā continued, “Now he is a youth, skilled in all weapons and missiles, and will be invulnerable to all beings except Rudra. He shall return to the place from which he arose.” Having said this, Brahmā summoned Śukra and installed Jalandhara as king. After bidding farewell to the ocean, Brahmā departed, concealing himself from view. At that time, the ocean, his eyes bright with joy, requested the hand of Vṛndā, the daughter of Kālanemi, to be Jalandhara’s wife. The Asuras, led by Kālanemi, gladly gave their daughter in marriage. With these powerful friends and the guidance of Śukra, Jalandhara ruled the earth with great might. Thus concludes the ninety-sixth chapter, “The Description of the Birth of Jālandhara,” as told in the sacred dialogue between Śrī Kṛṣṇa and Satyabhāmā, within the Kartika Māhātmya of the Uttara Khanda of the glorious Padma Purāṇa. Nārada continued his discourse, turning now to the subject of sacred trees. He explained that from the seeds cast at that confluence, three trees arose: the dhātrī, the mālatī, and the tulasī. The dhātrī is remembered as arising from Dhātrī, the mālatī from Mā, and the tulasī from Gaurī. Each embodies a distinct quality: darkness, purity, and passion. When Viṣṇu beheld the two trees in feminine form, he was deeply enchanted by the extraordinary beauty of Vṛndā. Overwhelmed by delusion and desire, Viṣṇu gazed upon them, and both tulasī and dhātrī looked back at him with love. From the seed once offered by Lakṣmī through her own power, women arose among them, but one, filled with jealousy, became known as Barbarī and was greatly condemned by Mādhava. Yet dhātrī and tulasī always brought Viṣṇu joy. Forgetting his sorrows, Viṣṇu, accompanied by these two, joyfully ascended to Vaikuṇṭha, honored by all the gods. Therefore, during the observance of Kartika, the worship of Viṣṇu is prescribed at the root of the tulasī plant, for she is celebrated as the giver of delight. Nārada declared, “O king, any house where a tulasī grove flourishes becomes as holy as a tīrtha, and the servants of Yama do not enter there. The tulasī grove destroys all sins, bestows merit, and fulfills desires. Those who plant it never see the sun god—meaning, they are freed from the cycle of rebirth. The sight of the Narmadā, bathing in the Gaṅgā, and association with a tulasī grove—these three are equally meritorious. By planting, caring for, watering, seeing, and touching the tulasī, one’s sins—whether committed by speech, mind, or body—are burned away. Whoever worships Hari and Hara with tulasī flowers does not return to the womb, but attains liberation without doubt. All holy places, sacred rivers, and the deities beginning with Vāsudeva reside within the tulasī leaf itself. If one departs from this life adorned with a cluster of tulasī flowers, he attains union with Viṣṇu—this is the truth, O king. If someone dies with tulasī clay applied to his body, even Yama cannot see him, no matter how great his sins. If a man wears sandalwood made from tulasī wood, sin cannot touch him, even as he lives in this world. Wherever the shade of a tulasī grove falls, there one should offer oblations to the ancestors, for such offerings are imperishable. Likewise, whoever gives offerings beneath the dhātrī tree satisfies his ancestors, even those dwelling in hell. And, O king, whoever places the fruit of the dhātrī on his head, hands, mouth, and body should be understood as Hari himself.” Thus, Nārada extolled the glory of Jalandhara’s birth and the sacredness of the tulasī and dhātrī, their divine origins, and their power to bestow merit, delight, and liberation upon all who honor them.