O king, listen closely to the tale of Prayāga, a place established by the Lord of creatures to burn away the heavy burden of accumulated sins and bring welfare to all beings. In ancient times, Brahmā himself ordained this sacred site, marked by its white and dark waters, as a refuge for those weighted by sin. Even one burdened with hundreds of transgressions, if he immerses in these waters during the sun’s course in Capricorn in the month of Māgha, is freed from the cycle of rebirth. The power of Prayāga is such that even a man deeply attached to worldly life, if he bathes here in Māgha, attains the supreme state. The stream of white and dark waters, arising from the Sarasvatī, was created by the Maker of the world as a pathway to Viṣṇu’s realm. Viṣṇu’s Māyā, difficult to cross and unconquerable even by the gods, is burned away at Prayāga in Māgha. Those who bathe here enjoy pleasures in radiant worlds and ultimately dissolve into Viṣṇu’s disc. Such is the greatness of this act: whoever touches the white and dark waters in Māgha, when the sun is in Capricorn, acquires merit beyond calculation—even Citragupta, the divine accountant, cannot measure it. And if one fully immerses, even Brahmā is unable to describe the magnitude of their merit. The fruit of a hundred years of fasting is gained by bathing at Prayāga for three days during Māgha. Each day’s bath in the Veṇī during this month equals the merit of giving a thousand loads of gold at Kurukṣetra during a solar eclipse. The undiminished fruit of a thousand Rājasūya sacrifices is surely obtained by bathing in these waters in Māgha. All sacred places on earth, and the seven holy cities, gather at the Veṇī to bathe during Māgha. Though holy waters may darken through association with sinners, at Prayāga, bathing in Māgha purifies them anew. Sins amassed over countless ages and births are reduced to ashes for those who bathe here, regardless of their nature. Sins committed by speech, mind, or body are ended for one who bathes for three days at Prayāga in Māgha. Such a person, casting off sin, ascends to heaven like a serpent shedding its worn-out skin. Wherever the Gaṅgā is entered, she is equal to Kurukṣetra; where she meets the Vindhya, she is ten times more holy. At Kāśī, the northward-flowing Gaṅgā is a hundred times more meritorious, and at the confluence of Gaṅgā and Yamunā, Kāśī is said to be a hundred times greater. Yet, of all these, the westward-flowing Gaṅgā is a thousand times more powerful, for by her very sight she removes the sin of killing a Brāhmaṇa. United with the Kāliṃdī, she destroys ten million sins, though she is rare to find in Māgha. The Veṇī is celebrated as nectar on earth; even a moment spent there in Māgha is difficult to attain, even for the gods. During this auspicious time, Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Mahādeva, Rudra, the Ādityas, Maruts, Gandharvas, guardians of the worlds, Yakṣas, Kinnaras, and serpents all come to bathe. Siddhas with mystical powers, teachers of truth, and goddesses—Brahmāṇī, Pārvatī, Lakṣmī, Śacī, Menā, Aditi, Diti—as well as serpent maidens and the renowned Apsarases—Ghṛtācī, Menakā, Rambhā, Urvaśī, Tilottamā—gather here. The hosts of Apsarases and ancestors also come to bathe at the Veṇī in Māgha. In the Kṛta age, they arrive in their true forms; in Kali, they come in concealed forms. The fruit of bathing for three days at Prayāga in Māgha cannot be gained even by a thousand horse sacrifices. In ancient times, the Apsaras Kāṃcanamālinī bestowed the merit of three days’ bathing in Māgha upon a Rākṣasa, freeing him from sin. Curious, Kārtavīrya asked, “Who was this Rākṣasa, and who was Kāṃcanamālinī? How did she grant him this merit, and how did he attain the good state? Please tell me, O lord of yogis, sun of Atri’s line, for I am eager to hear.” Dattatreya replied, “Listen, O King, to a wondrous and ancient tale, whose mere remembrance bestows the fruit of a Vājapeya sacrifice. There was an Apsaras of surpassing beauty named Kāñcanamālinī. In Māgha, she bathed at Prayāga and then proceeded to the abode of Hara. While she was in a grove on the king of mountains, an aged Rākṣasa, who had taken the form of a mountain, saw her ascending the sky. She was radiant, golden-hued, with beautiful hips, large eyes, a moon-like face, lovely hair, and full, high breasts. Seeing her, the Rākṣasa asked, ‘Who are you, O lotus-eyed one? From where have you come? Why are your garments wet and your hair damp? How do you move through the sky? By what merit do you possess this enchanting form?’ He continued, ‘O bright-eyed one, by the mere fall of drops from your garment upon my head, my mind—once cruel—became peaceful in an instant. What is the greatness of this water, tasteless yet so potent? Please explain, for virtue must be the cause of such beauty.’ The Apsaras replied, ‘Listen, O Rākṣasa. I am an Apsaras, able to assume forms at will. I have come from Prayāga, and my name is Kāñcanamālinī.