As the fierce woman, her eyes cruel and intense, approached the riverbank, her husband saw her coming. In her anger, she slipped and fell into the waters of the river. Emerging, she called out to him with a harsh voice, “Come quickly and eat; I have just brought fish and meat for you.” She then scolded him, “What have you done, fool? The meat I brought yesterday is nowhere to be seen; you have eaten it, fool, and you are neglecting your household!” Hearing these sharp words from his fierce-natured wife, the man—himself fierce by nature—was inwardly transformed by the austerity and wakefulness he had observed the previous night, which happened to be Śivarātri, the night sacred to Lord Śiva. His heart became pure, and, resolved to maintain purity, he went to bathe in the river. As this man, previously wicked, immersed himself in the water, a dog appeared at the riverbank. The dog quickly devoured all the meat that had been brought. Seeing this, Caṇḍā, the wife, was enraged and prepared to kill the dog in her fury. But her husband, Caṇḍa, restrained her, saying, “You must not kill this one—what harm has he done?” Still furious, Caṇḍā retorted, “This wicked one has eaten the food! What will you eat, fool, when hunger strikes you today?” Puṣkasa, the man, replied calmly, “The food that the dog has eaten has satisfied me. What is the use of this perishable body, whose life is so fleeting? Those who live only to nourish their bodies, O beautiful one, are ignorant sinners, excluded from both this world and the next. Therefore, abandon pride, desire, and wickedness. Become steadfast by reflecting on your own well-being and the truth.” He continued, “Today, O lovely one, I will renounce this body by the vow of the sword’s edge. What is the point of living long for me?” Having spoken thus, he drew his sword and prepared to strike himself down. At that very moment, many hosts sent by Lord Śiva arrived. Celestial vehicles appeared, shining and resplendent. Puṣkasa gazed in awe at these radiant beings, all adorned with Rudrākṣa beads, their forms shining like crystal, their hair matted, clad in hides, garlanded with serpents, and bearing the crescent moon in their locks. Their splendor and might were equal to Rudra himself. With deep devotion, Puṣkasa addressed them, “Why have you all gathered here, you wearers of Rudrākṣa beads? O sirs, adorned as you are, speak to me as is fitting.” The attendants of Rudra replied, “We have been sent by fierce Śiva, the supreme lord. Come quickly—board the vehicle with your wife. The worship of the liṅga that you performed last night for Śiva has brought you the highest state.” Vīrabhadra, one of the attendants, addressed Puṣkasa, who almost laughed in disbelief, “What good deed have I, a sinner, performed? Fond of hunting, foolish and wicked, I have always acted sinfully. How can I dwell in heaven? Tell me, how was the worship of the liṅga performed today? I am filled with curiosity and ask you kindly.” Vīrabhadra explained, “The god of gods, the great Gaṅgādhara, is pleased with you today, O fierce one, together with your wife. Last night, you performed worship, though unintentional, while observing the kola tree and bilva leaves. You cut and dropped those leaves, and they fell upon the head of the liṅga. By this, you are blessed, O lord. Your wakefulness atop the great tree during the night of Shiva, along with your fasting—even though unintentional—pleased the lord of the universe. By your fasting and wakefulness, the supreme god, the mighty bestower of boons, grants you all blessings.” Hearing these words, Puṣkasa and his wife ascended the foremost celestial chariot before the eyes of all. In celebration, kettledrums resounded, and many trumpets and musical instruments played among the hosts of gods, deities, and all living beings. Veenas, flutes, and drums accompanied by dance and drama filled the air; the Gandharvas sang and the Apsaras danced. Puṣkasa was fanned with chowries and shaded by various parasols, and with great festivity, he was brought into the presence of Lord Śiva. Thus, Puṣkasa, having attained the merit of bathing at the holy place and worshiping Śiva, was blessed. How much more blessed, it is said, are those who worship Śiva, the supreme soul, with faith and devotion! Even those who offer flowers, fruits, fragrance, betel, or rice grains to Śiva in this world—there is no doubt—they become like Rudras. Then Mahādeva spoke: “From that time onward, this holy place has been known as Khangadhara. O queen of the gods, in the Kali age, this tirtha will remain hidden. In the months of Māgha, Vaiśākha, and especially Kārtika, those who bathe here, O daughter of the mountain, are liberated. Sage Vasiṣṭha, Vāmadeva, Bharadvāja, and Gautama all come here to bathe and to see the god Pinākin. The liṅga remains here for three yugas, but not in the Kali age, O Pārvatī; for at that time, I was cursed by the sage Viśvāmitra.” Pārvatī then asked, “How was the curse given by the sage, O lord of the gods? I wish to hear that from you, without doubt.