At his father’s sacred shrine, I resolved to remain until the fruits of my earthly actions were fully spent. With this understanding, I performed all the proper rites for my father, and stayed there alongside the rākṣasa, intent on seeking liberation. Thus concludes the two hundred and fourth chapter, which extols the glory of the river Kālindī, in the Uttarakhaṇḍa of the great Padma Purāṇa, that vast work of fifty-five thousand verses. Now, Saubhari spoke: The illustrious king Śibi, having listened to the sage Nārada’s words, was filled with delight. He turned to the noble sage and addressed him, saying, “O revered one, I have heard you describe in detail the greatness of this foremost tīrtha, as revealed in the scriptures, and its power to remove all sin. In Indraprastha, there are indeed hundreds of tīrthas. If you know of any others whose greatness is renowned, please tell me about them as well.” Nārada replied, “O King, within Indraprastha there is a place called Dvārakā. Listen, and I shall recount to you what happened there in ancient times. “In Kāmpilya, there lived a brāhmaṇa named Puṣpeṣur, who was the very embodiment of beauty. His charm was such that he captivated the hearts of all women. Gifted in the art of music, he possessed a voice as sweet as the cuckoo’s song, and would often take up his vīṇā and play it again and again. With that melodious voice, he wandered through the city, singing in every street. “The sound of his singing, adorned with beautiful notes and melodies, was so enchanting that the women of the city abandoned their household duties, drawn irresistibly to him. Enchanted by his appearance, they could not withstand the surge of desire; hearing his song in person, they lost all self-control. “It was he who stirred Brahmā’s mind toward Sarasvatī, and who inspired Śiva to give half his body to Pārvatī. Except for those two great deities, no one else in the world—no matter how self-controlled or wise—can conquer Kāmadeva, the god of love; for women by their very nature are fickle. Even these women could not endure the onslaught of desire, though they tried; what more can be said, O king? In this world, Kāmadeva is truly hard to overcome. “Wherever Puṣpeṣur went, singing and playing his vīṇā with that enchanting voice, the women followed him. Their husbands, sons, brothers, and fathers came and rebuked them, leading each woman back to her own home. Yet, after searching for him, all those women would again seek him out. Whenever this happened, the townspeople brought their complaints to the king. “The king summoned the brāhmaṇa in private and asked, ‘O brāhmaṇa, by what mantra have you enchanted the women of the city? Tell me this, best of brāhmaṇas, and I will give you much wealth. Otherwise, without doubt, I shall expel you from my kingdom.’ “Hearing the king’s words, that foremost brāhmaṇa—an ocean of eloquence and virtue—spoke the truth before the king. He replied, ‘O king, I am but a beggar and possess neither mantra nor medicine. In your city, all the women are without self-control. Seeing my form and hearing the sound of my singing, the women cannot endure the surge of passion. What am I to do, great King? What fault is mine, O Lord? I have not transgressed any command previously established, O ruler of the earth.’ “As this was being discussed, all the citizens gathered and addressed the king, saying, ‘O King, by this brāhmaṇa, our city’s women have been enchanted; they no longer remain in their homes, nor can we restrain them. If this enchanter of women stays in the city, O Lord, then today we will leave for other lands. Our divine bull, the source of sacrificial rites, has departed from us. Just as the goddess Gaurī departs from the field of the wicked, so too, without him as refuge, those bereft of prosperity have left, O King. Then, as cows follow their bull, the women, adorned and fragrant, will follow him; how can prosperity remain in an empty house, however much one tries? Dharma, wealth, and the household—these three are under the power of women. Since dharma and wealth depend on the beloved, when they are lost, nothing remains.’ “As the citizens spoke thus, the women of the city gathered together, sat before the king, and spoke among themselves. They said, ‘O Lord of the day, upon seeing this brāhmaṇa of beautiful form, our minds blossom like lotuses in water. Without him, our hearts shrink like lotuses deprived of the moon. Let us go together and seize him before the king. He cannot be harmed, nor can we; what will the king do?’ “Having spoken thus, those eager women seized that best of brāhmaṇas in the sight of their own husbands and before the king. They said to him, ‘O lord of our hearts, come to our homes and relieve our longing. Satisfy us quickly, for without you we cannot remain.’ “Hearing these words, the brāhmaṇa replied to them, ‘I am a son to you all, and you are mothers to me. Why do you abandon your homes and wander about? Worship your own husbands, for by doing so, both worlds are surely attained. When husbands are worshipped, Viṣṇu, lord of all gods, is pleased. When He is pleased, what is unattainable here? But a woman who abandons her husband and seeks the pleasure of another—she incurs blame and goes to a terrible fate. As long as she deceives her husband, she dwells there, in suffering, until the end of the age.’ “Thus did Puṣpeṣur, with wisdom and compassion, address the women, guiding them back to the path of dharma.