The tale begins with a remarkable horse, whose presence stirred even the hearts of those most learned in the marks and qualities of horses. Its vigor and spirit inspired the bravest among them, as it shook its head and drew their attention again and again. This horse was famed for its swift journeys across the unbroken earth, its glory shining forth with the play of its saliva and foam, pure and dazzling. In its qualities and essence, the horse rivaled Uccaiḥśravas, the celestial steed, bearing itself with noble modesty and a gracefully bowed neck. Constantly fanned by white yak-tail fans, its breath moved like the waves of the milk ocean, just as Uccaiḥśravas’s did. Beneath a pair of blue parasols whose shade was as dense as rain-laden clouds, the horse shone like a peak of the Himalayas touched by a mass of dark clouds. Wherever it moved, the horse touched the circle of the earth like fire, raising and shaking its beautiful neck repeatedly. With a mighty neigh, it tore apart all enemies and proclaimed the glory of victory, announcing its fame in every direction. It was a heap of spirit, a treasure for those who had attained lofty paths, the very abode of beauty and the ocean of auspicious marks. Eventually, the merchant brought this extraordinary horse before the king, who was surrounded by ministers expert in the marks of horses. The horse was described in many ways, and, as the merchant wished, the king gave him gold and eagerly accepted the swift horse, his heart overflowing with boundless joy. Summoning the horse keeper and carefully examining the steed, the king dismissed the assembly and withdrew to his inner chambers. In the royal arena, he was often questioned, and his body bore the scars of sword wounds—a testament to his courage. Once, while enjoying the hunt, filled with curiosity and excitement, the king mounted his horse and entered the forest. Leaving his soldiers behind, who were scattered in pursuit, he was drawn after a deer and soon became overwhelmed by thirst. Seeking water for his horse, he crossed over and tied the animal to a tree branch, then climbed onto a rock. There, the king discovered a half-verse from the fifteenth chapter of the Gītā, written on a leaf and dropped by the wind, lying upon a fragment. As he read the leaf and heard the sacred words of the Gītā, at that very moment, the horse attained liberation and fell swiftly to the ground. The king untied the knot and lowered the horse, but though he tried to raise it, the horse did not rise—it had died. Then, a celestial being named Sarabhabheruṇḍa addressed the king in a sweet voice, boarded a divine chariot, and ascended to the abode of the gods. Ascending the mountain, the king beheld an excellent hermitage, adorned with punnāga, banana, mango, and coconut trees. Vineyards, sugarcane groves, betel, nāga, kesara, and campaka trees flourished there, with playful young elephants and deer, and peacocks dancing in flocks. Bowing to the twice-born sage who dwelled within the hut, the king, now freed from worldly desires, asked him with deep devotion, “Tell me, by what cause did my horse ascend to heaven?” Hearing these words, 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 had been written. Then, as you read and heard it, the horse ascended to heaven; afterward, he was surrounded there by his attendants.” The king, his hair standing on end, bowed to the sage and departed, taking with him the leaf inscribed with the fifteenth chapter of the Gītā. His eyes blossoming with joy, he recited it, and together with his ministers and priests, he anointed his own son as king. Having placed his lion-like son upon the throne, the pure-minded king himself attained liberation. Thus concludes the one hundred and eighty-ninth chapter of the glorious Padma Mahāpurāṇa, in the Uttarakhaṇḍa, within the section on the greatness of the Gītā, from the compendium of fifty-five thousand verses. The story continues with Śivaśarman recounting how Viṣṇuśarman, the merchant, together with his wife Śarabha, gathered the materials for worship and went to the shrine of Śrī Caṇḍikā. There, following the prescribed rites, they bathed and worshipped Candika with flowers, incense, and lamps, motivated by the desire for a son and filled with devotion. Ambika, worshipped by them with faith for seven days, appeared before them and spoke directly, her mind clear. Parvati said, “O merchant, I am pleased by your firm devotion. I will grant you a son, for which you have made such effort. Go without delay to the forest of Indra and Khāṇḍava; there lies the supreme holy place called Indraprastha. There is the holy place that awakens the Vedas and grants all desires; created by Bṛhaspati, bathe there with the wish for a son. By bathing there, you will indeed have a son; after bathing there, even I obtained Skanda, the destroyer of the gods’ enemies.” Hearing the goddess’s words, my father, together with his wife, journeyed to that holy place and bathed there, desiring a son. He gave a hundred cows, equipped with utensils, to the twice-born, and, wise, satisfied the gods and ancestors according to the proper rites. After staying for seven nights, the devoted couple returned home, their faces blooming with joy at the fulfillment of their wish. In that very year, my mother conceived; and after nine months had passed, I was born in the auspicious tenth month.