After enduring the torments of the unconquerable hells, a soul was reborn as a vulture in a lonely, deserted forest. The woman, too, having suffered a painful disease of the body, relinquished her once-beautiful form. She, in turn, reached dreadful hells and was then born again in that same forest as a parrot, wandering restlessly, searching for scattered grains to sustain herself. The vulture, remembering the enmity from their past lives, swooped down and, with his sharp claws, attacked the parrot just as she fell into a skull filled with water. In his fury, the vulture struck her with his talons; but in that moment, separated from his mate, he too perished in the waters collected in the human skull. There, within that skull, both the parrot and the exceedingly cruel vulture sank, and soon the servants of Yama, Lord of Death, seized them. Filled with fear and recalling their former evil deeds, they were brought to the world of the ancestors. Yama, beholding the repugnant deeds they had committed, suddenly perceived that, by the very act of dying in the water of that skull, a great merit had arisen for both. Therefore, despite the weight of their many sins, he allowed them to ascend to the worlds their hearts desired. Amazed and puzzled, the two remembered their own evil actions and approached Vaivasvata, bowing before him and asking, “The evil we accumulated in our past is indeed blameworthy. Tell us, how is it that we have attained the worlds so desired by all?” Vaivasvata replied, “On the bank of the holy Ganges, there lived an ascetic, foremost among those who know Brahman. Alone, detached, peaceful, free from passion and envy, he ceaselessly recited the fifth chapter of the Gita. By the power of his merit, his soul was purified and realized the eternal Brahman. Even one who was more sinful, merely hearing him, would be purified at death. The water within that skull, sanctified by the Gita and by contact with the ascetic, became holy. By dying in that water, your bodies and minds were purified, and thus you both became pure.” “Therefore, go now to those worlds that lie along the path of your desires, purified by the glory of the fifth chapter of the Gita.” Rejoicing at these words, both ascended a celestial vehicle and, radiant with joy, went to the abode of Vishnu. Thus concludes the one hundred and seventy-ninth chapter, in the section on the Glory of the Gita, of the Uttarakhaṇḍa of the great Padma Purāṇa. Now, Īśvara spoke to Bhavānī: “O smiling one, I shall further declare the means for liberation from worldly existence. Listen attentively to the glory of the fourteenth chapter of the Gita. “On earth, among all regions, Kashmir is most excellent, and its capital, Sarasvatī, is truly enchanting. There, the goddess of speech herself presides, granting the world of Brahma to those who worship her, whether she is invoked by Sāvitrī hymns or seen mounted on a swan. “Those who serve at the lotus feet of Sarasvatī, offering saffron and honoring her in all directions, are blessed. By her grace, the language of those who speak Sanskrit is instantly and continuously understood, as if every day were a festival. “In the mornings, vermilion dust rises from the courtyards of houses, so that even the moon’s disk appears tinged with a reddish hue everywhere. “In that land, there was a king named Shauryavarma, radiant and powerful, who shattered the armies of his enemies with a flood of shining arrows. On the distant island of Simhala, there was another king, Simhaparakrama, also called Vikramavetala, a treasury of every art. “Over time, the two kings fostered a deep friendship, exchanging rare and excellent gifts from their respective lands. Once, out of affection, Shauryavarma sent a splendid present to King Vikramavetala—two magnificent hunting dogs. In return, Vikramavetala sent to his friend Shauryavarma many elephants and horses, adorned with jewels and fans, their spirits intoxicated with pride. “One day, King Shauryavarma, mounted on a palanquin, shaded by charming whisks and golden chains, accompanied by the sound of drums and kettledrums, set out for the sport of hunting. With him went the royal princes and the pair of gifted dogs. In the outer garden, a wager was set according to the rules, and a hare was released, causing great excitement among the princes. “King Shauryavarma, eager for amusement, made a large wager with a prince of equal age. Dismounting from his palanquin and proud of his garland of victory, he released his dog at the running hare. The royal prince, mighty-armed and beloved by all, did likewise, his own dog chasing after the hare as he proclaimed victory. “As all the kings watched, the pair of dogs sped after the hare with such swiftness that their movement was almost imperceptible. The hare, exhausted, fell into a deep pit, but even then the dog did not seize it. Slowly, the hare rose and attempted to flee, but the royal dog, angered, caught the foaming hare. As the hare stumbled, trying to escape, the prince’s dog seized it at the nape of its neck. “In the midst of the shouts of ‘We have certainly won!’ the dog, startled, released the hare from its jaws. Wounded and bleeding, the hare hid itself somewhere in the earth, remaining concealed. The dog, frustrated, sniffed the ground in search of its quarry; but when the hare was spotted, terrified, it moved just a hand’s length away.” Thus the story unfolds, revealing the subtle workings of karma, the purifying power of the Gita, and the grace that flows from devotion and virtue.