In the sacred narrative, it is revealed that by merely seeing, bowing to, touching, or holding, one comes into contact with a divine presence so powerful that it transforms the course of life itself. For as long as men wander in the world, beset by poverty, disease, death, and the many misfortunes that arise from existence, they remain subject to suffering. Yet, the remembrance of this holy being instantly cuts away the mass of evil deeds, conquering innumerable sins—even from a hundred thousand yojanas away. With longing to behold her and a joyful heart, when one sets out upon her path, the act itself is fulfilled at that very moment. Thus, the first doer is born into the ocean of heaven. Having become a goddess, she is recognized as the supreme Brahman, the bestower of the highest bliss. She is the embodiment of dharma, a stream of nectar flowing from the lotus feet of the enemy of Mura; she is the raft that carries souls across the ocean of suffering, praised by gods and men alike, the path leading to the stairway of heaven. Her waters remove all sins, shining with the purest qualities. Her waves surge forth, rescuing those sunk in the ocean of sin, carrying them from the river of heaven. Her pure brilliance dispels the darkness of impurity, sanctifying the world. In this context, the mind trembles, questioning its own fear—wondering whether it is afraid of hells. It is said that fear arises for the doer of evil, but one is encouraged not to fear. If, because of one’s own sin, a rival has reached hell before oneself, then what remains? What dharma or wealth is left? Where the praise of the Lord of all, the experience of joy, and the ritual bathing are declared, and noble women look on with delight; where the king of gods comes, hoping for attainment—even those who have committed evil clearly attain divinity there. The Vedas themselves are authority for this truth. May right understanding arise in your mind, O friend; may well-being be yours. May your speech become dear to all, and may you attain manifest virtues and a radiant form. May you gain vitality, for this is the desire of all. Then, the prayer is offered: “O Śrī Jāhnavī, daughter of the Sun, child of Brahmā, ornament of the three rivers, O Prayāga, best of holy places, O Lord of all, favor me, lead me upward, destroy the tenfold inner darkness with your own radiance.” It is said that the Lord of Speech, Lord Viṣṇu, Indra, and even the wise worship that beautiful blue bank for the destruction of sin; Prayāga, the king of holy places, triumphs. Where the Gaṅgā, born of the Himālaya, meets and the celestial river flows westward, she washes away the triple afflictions of people; Prayāga triumphs. The dark banyan tree, adorned with its qualities, shades worshippers with its pure shadow; where the fatigue of darkness is cut away by seeing it, Prayāga triumphs. Even Brahma and others, abandoning their own forms, seek the blessed fortune of the virtuous. By whose service, O Lord, gods, kings, and divine sages daily proclaim: “Heaven, supreme among all, and earthly sovereignty—such is the glory of Prayāga, the king of sacred places.” Its fame destroys sins; its radiance purifies the eyes. Prayāga’s light pervades the three worlds, along with cows, and thus Prayāga triumphs. All around, Prayāga bears the charming brilliance of white and black chamara fans, where the rivers meet in the forest. At the confluence, the daughter of Brahma, the triple-path Triveni, is manifest, witnessed directly in the ritual. For some, countless births pass before attaining this place; for those of gentle speech, it is attained. For seekers of the supreme, it is the highest among all years. What is gained by fortune may or may not be spoken; destiny distinguishes the confluence, and the auspicious day is seen—such is Prayāga! For those desiring heaven in the Kali age, unable to perform sacrifices, the fruits of Agnistoma, Ashvamedha, and other rites are fully obtained by praise, hymns, and words. Even if, through negligence, haste, or fault, the Sandhya ritual was not properly observed, performing Sandhya here with devotion fulfills it for all births, even one’s own. Elsewhere, even with great asceticism and meditation by those far removed in love, the illustrious dust of Triveni is bowed to—the peerless king of sacred places, Prayāga, shining with the mark of the circle, self-manifest, the best among immortals. One wonders: what austerities have we performed, what sacrifices offered, what gifts given, what worship to many gods, what sacred places served, what Brahmin families honored? By which is always attained the city of Shiva, the giver of auspiciousness, the royal capital itself. By fortune, one attains that which destroys all sins of countless births—the wondrous city of Shiva, the ferry across the ocean of worldly existence. The fruit gained for the good, the family purified, the self made whole—what else remains, standing above all? A living man sees a hundred thousand auspicious sights; this is not false. Therefore, for one’s body and sight, even Kashi was not attained, so fleeting. Even by the immortals, it is impossible to enumerate the sacred lingas in divine Kashi. Those ancient, hidden, and revealed, accomplished ones—here, one bows to them, joining hands. What fear from the path of sin, what joy from countless meritorious deeds, what pride from study, what sorrow from dullness and error, what arrogance from wealth, what pain from poverty, what food? If, after bathing in the waters of Shri Manikarnika, Lord Vishveshvara is seen. Even with little prosperity, health, or slenderness, with manifest capability, with strength born of encouragement and pure love alone, though unattainable by desires or dreams, she is attained. The city of Gadadhara grants immediate liberation. Neither one’s own form, nor the strength of previous attainments, nor relatives, nor any fixed measure, nor sleep or suffering—none suffice. The attainment of Gaya, Prayāga, Yamuna, and Kashi, the supreme confluence, is difficult. The great fruit is won by the favor of Shri Sharada. He who, even remembered from afar at the time of the ancestral rite, grants liberation to the ancestors—one bows to Shri Gadadhara, who dwells in Gaya. Having crossed the difficult path, far and even more distant, crowded with dangers—tigers, thieves, thorns, and serpents—one arrives and at the first expense begs with humble words: “O Karpari, O illustrious Gadadhara by the water, every day I long to see you.” How is it that, though you are the all-pervading Self, and though the gods are pleased by the offering of śrāddha at Gayā, you remain indifferent, as if unconcerned with the world? Is it mercilessness, or the power of Kali? Or is it the long-standing observation of virtue among people, or perhaps your inclination for service? “O Gadādhara, by your grace I have completed the śrāddha. Permit me, O Lord, to return home.” One should recite the hymn for the four deities, which grants the reward of heaven, always at the time of śrāddha; whoever recites it at the time of bathing— Bathing, by hearing, reciting, and chanting, becomes equal to all holy places. By hearing the hymn of Prayāga, Gaṅgā, and Yamunā, faults arising from actions are destroyed. Then Mahādeva spoke to Nārada: “Listen, I will tell you the greatness of the origin of Tulasī. Hearing this, one is freed from sin and from the cycle of birth and death. Leaf, flower, fruit, root, branch, bark, and stem—all parts of Tulasī, and even its soil, are purifying. Those whose bodies are burned with fire made from Tulasī wood, and who have Tulasī wood placed on all parts of their body after death, are blessed. Afterwards, whoever performs the cremation is also freed from sin; and at the time of death, if one attains the remembrance or chanting of Hari, liberation is assured.