Listen, dear one, to the greatness of Prayāga and the power of true purification. Even in the holiest of places, it is not enough to merely be present—one must abandon all evil thoughts from the mind. Only then, when the heart is cleansed, does bathing at Prayāga ensure one’s passage to heaven. Simply by bathing at Prayāga, people attain heaven without doubt. Sins committed elsewhere are instantly washed away at this sacred confluence. Yet, know this: while Prayāga destroys sin, the exception is sin committed at another holy place. Let me tell you a story from long ago, so you may understand. Once, mighty Indra, king of the gods, saw the wife of the sage Gautama. Overcome by desire, he secretly approached her, succumbing to a grave sin, the consequences of which appeared immediately. The sage Gautama, witnessing Indra's act, pronounced a curse. By the power of the sage’s words, Indra was marked with a thousand female organs upon his body—a mark of disgrace and shame. Deeply humiliated, Indra turned his face downward and departed from the assembly of gods. Tormented by shame, Indra journeyed to the vast summit of Mount Meru, a place filled with waters stretching for a hundred yojanas. There he entered a golden lotus bud and hid himself, constantly reproaching both his own actions and the god of love, Kāma. He lamented, “Fie upon this passion-driven nature that brings instant sin, casting a man into hell and earning him the scorn of all. It destroys life, fame, virtue, and courage. Shame on Manmatha, the source of calamity within the heart, ever insatiable and overpowering.” While Indra hid in the lotus, the heavens grew dim. Without Ākhaṇḍala, the world of the gods lost its brilliance. The gods, Gandharvas, guardians of the worlds, and Kinnaras, together with Indra’s wife Śacī, gathered in distress. They approached Bṛhaspati, the preceptor of the gods, and asked, “O lord, where has the mighty Indra gone? Without him, heaven does not shine. Just as a noble family is incomplete without a worthy son, so do we desire the return of our lord to restore heaven’s glory.” Bṛhaspati replied, “I know where Maghavan dwells, shamed by his own fault. He now experiences the fruit of his rash deed. When righteousness is abandoned, suffering follows. Intoxicated by the pride of power, he acted without discernment, bringing ruin upon himself. Such is the fate of those whose minds are clouded by delusion. Let us go to where Śakra, Indra, abides.” Led by Bṛhaspati, all the gods set out. In the vast lake, they saw a forest of golden lotuses. They sang the praises of Indra, hoping to awaken him. Stirred by their words and the teacher’s presence, Indra emerged from the lotus, his face dejected, his form altered, eyes downcast in shame. He approached Bṛhaspati, grasped his feet, and pleaded, “Protect me, O teacher! Tell me the expiation for my sin!” Bṛhaspati spoke gently, “Hear me, O lord of the gods. There is a way to destroy sin: by merely bathing at Prayāga, you will be freed from your burden at that very moment. Let us go together.” So Indra, accompanied by his preceptor, went to Prayāga. There, at the white and black fords, he bathed and was immediately freed from his sins. Pleased, Bṛhaspati granted him a boon: “By bathing at Prayāga, your sins are destroyed, O sinless one. O Śakra, with your sins gone, by my grace, you shall have a thousand yonis transformed into a thousand eyes, so that you shine forth with glory.” Thus, by the Brāhmaṇa’s word, Indra’s curse became a mark of greatness—his body adorned with a thousand eyes, his mind serene like a lake filled with lotuses. Honored by all the gods, praised by the Gandharvas, Indra returned to Amarāvatī, his heavenly city. Thus, at Prayāga, the subduer of Pāka was instantly freed from sin. Therefore, O blessed one, you too should go to Prayāga, revered by the gods, for the instant destruction of sin and the assured attainment of heaven. Hearing these words and the auspicious tale, she bowed at the Brāhmaṇa’s feet, seized by urgency. She abandoned her relatives, her household, and all pleasures, casting them aside as one would discard poison. Seeing her body perishing in a moment, I too departed, tormented by the dreadful inner fire—the suffering of the ocean of hell. My heart afflicted, as if by the beast of a corpse, I journeyed to Prayāga and bathed at the white and black fords during the sacred month of Māgha. Hear now, O aged night-wanderer, the greatness of that bath: in three days, all my sins were destroyed. In twenty-seven days, the merit I gained brought me divinity. I delighted on Kailāsa as the dear friend of Girijā. By the power of Prayāga, I was reborn with memory of my past life, and, remembering Prayāga’s greatness, I return there every Māgha. Thus, O Rākṣasa, all that you asked, filled with wonder, I have recounted in full—my story, for your joy and understanding.