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 sacred water of this king among holy fords remained within our bellies, its power at the time of death has granted us the rare friendship of the lord of wealth. We bow to you, O master, and now depart to your city, O lord of wealth, ascending into aerial chariots adorned with many jewels, brought by his attendants. “Proceed without delay at this sacred ford that reveals the Veda,” they were told. “You, noble one, cross over together with him, and quickly bring him across as well.” Having spoken thus, they departed in the northern direction, their aerial chariots resounding through the heavens with melodious jingling. Then my father, the merchant Śarabha, spoke to the night-wandering demon: “Arise, quickly take me to the sacred ford that reveals the Veda. I am afflicted by fever and cannot go there on foot; there is none but you who can carry me to that holy place.” The night-wanderer, comforting the merchant, replied, “So be it.” Lifting my father onto his shoulder, he swiftly brought him to that most excellent of all sacred fords. There, both the lord of men and the demon stayed, performing only the ritual bath at that holy place. Meanwhile, hearing of my father’s great and severe suffering, my mother sent me forth from my home. Upon arriving, I found my father 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 this sacred ford, he stands here in my presence.” Thus instructed by my great-souled father, I rose and fell to the ground in full prostration at the demon’s feet. The rākṣasa lifted me up with his arms, embraced me tightly, and said, “Welcome, friend’s son,” bestowing his blessings. “O dear one, you are indeed fortunate to have arrived here, having heard of your righteous father’s severe affliction with fever. You will 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, I returned to my father’s presence and asked the rākṣasa about his story, curious how he possessed such righteousness. Hearing from my father about the rākṣasa’s story, and that of the traveler and his steeds, I then composed a hymn of praise to the lord of the holy place. “My father will be freed from disease; when that happens, I will return home. Here, I have stayed for ten days.” But within those ten days, O father, my father’s death occurred, as he stood in the half-submerged waters of this lordly holy place. Then, mounting Garuḍa and bearing splendor upon his chest, Viṣṇu himself arrived, his form like a fresh rain cloud, clad in yellow garments, with four arms and lotus-reddened eyes. He was accompanied by Brahmā, Indra, and other ancient deities, all with their attendants. He was served by hosts of virtues, sung by Kinnaras, praised everywhere by Hāhā, Hūhū, and others. Viṣṇu, having granted his own likeness, placed my father upon Garuḍa. Surrounded by Brahmā and others, he ascended to Vaikuṇṭha. Seeing my father attain the likeness of Viṣṇu, I reflected deeply; witnessing this, realization dawned within me. Truly, the greatness of this supreme holy place cannot be described; one who dies in its waters becomes four-armed. I resolved never to abandon this lord of holy places; its greatness is firm and direct, dispelling desires for wealth, disease, and other cravings. Here, at my father’s shrine, I must remain until the fruits of my actions, begun on earth, are exhausted. Having considered thus, and having performed proper rites for my father, I remained here with the rākṣasa, desiring liberation. Thus ends the two hundred and fourth chapter, concerning the glory of the Kālindī, in the Uttarakhaṇḍa of the great Padma Purāṇa, comprising fifty-five thousand verses. Thereafter, Saubhari spoke: The illustrious king Śibi, having heard the sage Nārada’s words, addressed him with a delighted mind, speaking thus to that noble one: “O sage, I have listened as you described in detail the greatness of this foremost tīrtha, as revealed in the scriptures, and its power to remove sin. In Indraprastha there are indeed hundreds of tīrthas; if there is any other whose greatness you know, please tell me about it as well.” Nārada replied, “O king, within Indraprastha there is a place called Dvārakā; I shall tell you what happened there in ancient times—listen to me. In Kāmpilya, there was a certain brāhmaṇa named Puṣpeṣur, who seemed to be the very embodiment of beauty, captivating the hearts of all women with his exceptional charm. Skilled in the art of music, with a voice as sweet as a cuckoo’s, he would often take up his vīṇā and play it repeatedly. With a melodious voice like a cuckoo’s, that wise man wandered through the city, singing in every street.