There was once a man whose treasury, horses, and valiant warriors rivaled the king’s own, even in those fortresses most difficult to conquer. Yet, driven by sinful ambition, he yearned to seize the kingdom for himself. Determined to achieve this by force, he resolved to kill the king and his sons. But before many days had passed, fate intervened: he was suddenly struck down by cholera and died. Because of this grievous intent, he was reborn after a short time as a spirited horse with a slender belly in the land of Sindhu. A certain merchant’s son, well-versed in the nature of horses, purchased this remarkable animal at great cost and, with much effort, brought it home. In time, after the merchant’s death, the king—through his grandsons and descendants—grew old, continuing to govern his realm. One day, the merchant’s son brought the horse to the king, standing at the palace doors, awaiting an audience. Though already known to the royal household, the doorkeeper ushered him in. When asked his purpose, the merchant replied clearly, “O Lord, regarding this horse as the jewel of the three worlds, I acquired it for a vast price, drawn by its noble qualities.” The king looked at those around him and ordered, “Let the merchant’s horse be brought here.” The horse, admired by experts who recognized its marks, stirred even the bravest hearts with its presence. Its fame had spread far and wide for its swift journeys across the unbroken earth, and it shone with a pure glory, its saliva and foam glistening in the sunlight. In qualities and essence, it matched the celestial Uccaiḥśravas. With a bowed, radiant neck, it displayed a noble modesty. White yak-tail fans cooled it constantly, and its breath moved like the waves of the milk ocean, just as Uccaiḥśravas. Bearing a pair of blue parasols that shaded it like dense clouds, the horse shone like a Himalayan peak touched by rain clouds. It touched the earth with the energy of fire, raising and shaking its beautiful neck. Its mighty neigh proclaimed the glory of victory and tore apart all enemies, announcing its fame in every direction. The horse was a treasure for those who aspired to great heights—the very abode of beauty, an ocean of auspicious marks. The merchant presented the horse to the king, who was surrounded by ministers expert in such matters, and they described the horse’s qualities in many ways. Pleased, the king gave the merchant gold as he wished and, overflowing with joy, took possession of the swift horse. Summoning the horse keeper, the king examined the animal carefully, then dismissed the assembly and retired to his inner chambers. Time passed, and the king, often asked in his court about the horse, was himself a figure of courage, adorned with scars from many battles. One day, filled with curiosity and excitement, the king set out on a hunt. Mounting his remarkable horse, he entered the forest, leaving his soldiers behind as they scattered in pursuit of the game. Drawn after a deer and overcome by thirst, the king searched for water for his horse. Tying the horse to a tree branch, the king climbed a rock in search of a spring. There, by chance, he saw a fragment of a leaf, blown by the wind, upon which was written half a verse from the fifteenth chapter of the Bhagavad Gītā. As the king read the leaf and heard the sacred words, at that very moment, the horse attained liberation and fell swiftly to the ground. The king, untying the knot, tried to rouse the horse, but it did not rise; the noble animal had died. Just then, a celestial being named Sarabhabheruṇḍa appeared, addressing the king in a sweet voice. Boarding a divine chariot, the being ascended to the abode of the gods. The king, continuing on his way, climbed a mountain and came upon a beautiful hermitage, shaded by punnāga, banana, mango, and coconut trees. There were vineyards, sugarcane groves, betel, nāga, kesara, and campaka trees. Young elephants and deer played, and flocks of peacocks danced in delight. Within the hut dwelled a twice-born sage. The king, freed from worldly desires and filled with devotion, bowed reverently and asked, “Tell me, by what cause did my horse ascend to heaven?” The sage replied, “After a long time, due to a past sin, the horse was born as such. But somewhere, a half-verse from the fifteenth chapter of the Gītā had been written. As you read and heard it, the horse ascended to heaven, surrounded there by his attendants.” With his hair standing on end in awe, the king bowed to the sage and departed, taking with him the leaf inscribed with the Gītā’s fifteenth chapter. His eyes blossoming with joy, the king recited the sacred words. Then, together with his ministers and priests, he anointed his own lion-like son as king. Having placed his son on the throne, the pure-minded king himself attained liberation. Thus ends the one hundred and eighty-ninth chapter of the glorious Padma Mahāpurāṇa, Uttarakhaṇḍa, in the section that extols the greatness of the Gītā. Afterward, Śivaśarman said: Then Viṣṇuśarman, the merchant, together with his wife Śarabha, having gathered the materials for worship, went to the shrine of Śrī Caṇḍikā.