Listen to the tale as it unfolds, drawn faithfully from the sacred verses. There was once a virtuous woman who, in a moment of despair, consumed deadly poison and died instantly. It was midnight, darkness enveloped everything, and witnessing her tragic end, I fled in terror. But as I hastily tried to escape, the king’s servants caught me, suspecting me to be a thief. Without mercy, they struck off my head with a sword. When I died, the servants of Yama, the lord of death, placed me in a body made for torment. By Yama’s command, I was cast into the dreadful hell called Raurava, where I endured intense suffering for six thousand years. Because of that very sin, I was reborn as a rakshasa, a demon. Now, a hundred years have passed in this rakshasa state, O lord of men, and I wish to tell you the means by which I might obtain liberation from this condition. O virtuous one, I will respectfully share with you the meritorious act by which the water of this supreme pilgrimage has entered my mouth. In that previous birth, on a day sacred to Hari, I performed a vow. Through association, though unwillingly, I kept vigil at night with a merchant. Then, on the twelfth day, after bathing and preparing to eat, a certain Vaishnava arrived at my house, bearing the form of Vishnu. Angered upon seeing him, I spoke harsh words: “Where are you going, you wicked, hypocritical man, among the women?” Thus addressed, that steadfast one, equal in honor and dishonor, silently left my house and departed. Then my devoted wife approached him, fell at his feet, and brought that holy man into our home. Though I had insulted him, that great soul felt no anger; because of her reverence, he was as joyful as if among friends. She worshipped him properly, seating him on a seat, and said, “O lord of life, who conquers the three worlds, partake of this food.” Thus addressed by that virtuous woman, I humbly spoke to the great soul, my face downcast while hers was bright: “Arise, relieve your hunger.” Having said this, that slender-waisted woman herself washed his feet and seated him again on the best seat. I gave him a vessel filled with food, and, urged repeatedly by her, I offered him water. Having eaten, that righteous soul, undisturbed and at ease, departed, chanting “Hare Rama, Hare Krishna.” This merit was accomplished by me, O merchant, not by my own doing but by that woman; it is by her actions that, in this birth, I have obtained the water of the holy place. Śivaśarman said: After Viṣṇuśarman spoke these words, he stood before the demon. Then, those travelers—your former bearers—spoke to you from the sky, now in divine bodies. The travelers said: “O lord of men, O noble one, though we met with untimely death, by your grace, after drinking this water, we have attained divinity. Because of greed for wealth, O lord of merchants, we strayed in your company; but now, even at the moment of death, all desire for wealth has left us. As the water of this king of sacred fords remained in our bellies, at death, by its power, we have gained friendship with the lord of wealth. We bow to you and now go, O lord of wealth, to your city, O master, in aerial chariots brought by his attendants, adorned with various jewels. Proceed, do not delay at the sacred ford that reveals the Veda; you, O noble one, cross over together with him, and quickly bring him across as well.” Śivaśarman continued: Having spoken thus, they departed in the northern direction, resounding through the heavens with the jingling of their aerial chariots. Then my father, the merchant, spoke to the night-wandering demon: Śarabha said, “Arise, quickly take me to the sacred ford that reveals the Veda. Afflicted by fever, I am unable to go there on foot; there is no one but you who can take me to that sacred ford.” The night-wanderer comforted the merchant and agreed, lifting him onto his shoulder and swiftly carrying him to that holy ford. There, both the lord of men and the demon stayed, performing only the ritual bath at that most excellent of all sacred fords. Hearing of my father’s great and severe suffering, my mother sent me, and I left my own house. Arriving there, I saw him greatly afflicted by fever. I bowed my head to him, received his blessing, and he spoke to me: “Why have you come here, dear son, on this long road? Stay here for a few days, performing your own duties. A friend of mine named Vikaṭa, a demon, is coming here; rise, and with your body, fall at his feet in salutation. You need not fear him, for he has abandoned violent deeds; now, having reached the sacred ford, he stands here in my presence.” Thus addressed by my father, the great-souled Śarabha, I rose and fell to the ground at his feet in full prostration. The demon lifted me up with his arms, embraced me tightly, and said, “Welcome, friend’s son,” bestowing his blessings. The rakshasa said, “O dear one, you are indeed fortunate to have arrived here, having heard of your righteous father’s severe affliction with fever. You obtain merit for your father by offering sesame water at this sacred place; after bathing, perform your own rites, and you will remember your previous birth.” Thus addressed, I entered the excellent waters of the holy place to bathe, recalling, O father, the auspicious and inauspicious deeds of my previous birth. Having bathed properly there, I came to my father’s presence and asked the rakshasa about his story, wondering how he possessed such righteousness. Thus the story flows, revealing the journey of souls, the power of merit, and the grace found at sacred places.