In a time long past, by the sacred waters of Dvaraka, the lord of that holy place was honored through a ritual act. The water, carefully held in a water-pot, was pronounced sacred by a night-wandering sage, who declared its sanctity to all present. The sage, moved by compassion upon witnessing the misfortune before him, recounted all that had been asked of him and, with a gentle heart, offered to do whatever was needed, placing himself under the authority of those who sought his aid. With a blessing that knowledge might arise within them, he sprinkled the afflicted ones with the sacred water. The moment that holy water touched them, a wondrous transformation occurred. The beings who had been burdened with fierce Rakshasa forms suddenly remembered all their past births and deeds. Shedding their terrible bodies, they attained divine forms. Ascending the seventh celestial chariot, they became apsarases—celestial maidens of great beauty—and bowed in reverence to the twice-born sage who had delivered them. With gratitude, they spoke to the sage: “O best of the twice-born, through the union with the water of Dvaraka, we have been freed from our Rakshasa existence and now journey to the abode of the gods.” They praised Dvaraka, declaring, “O twice-born, this Dvaraka, situated within Indraprastha, is supreme. Nowhere else in the world is there a holy place that grants all desires as this one does.” Narada, the divine sage, continued the tale: “Having spoken thus, the celestial maidens mounted their shining chariots. With my permission, O king, they departed toward the eastern direction.” He explained further, “O king, by the banks of the Yamuna stands Dvaraka. Simply by hearing of its greatness, a person is freed from sins. The merit gained from feeding a hundred learned Brahmins versed in the Vedas is equaled by merely hearing the glory of this sacred place. Just as the senses find delight in the proper worship of Govinda, so too is there happiness in hearing the greatness of Dvaraka. The merit of giving twenty measures of gold during a solar or lunar eclipse is attained by one who listens to this tale. Hearing the pure story of the attainment of a son brings that very blessing, and supreme devotion, like that gained by a friend, is also bestowed. Whoever hears with faith of the liberation of these demonesses will, like them, ascend in a splendid chariot to the abode of the gods. “Thus, the greatness of the noble king and of Dvaraka—revered by the people of the three worlds and situated at Indra’s holy place—has been described. What further supreme merit shall I narrate to you? Speak, for in seeking the highest good, there should be no delay.” With this, the chapter entitled “The Story of Dvaraka,” part of the section on the greatness of Kalindi in the Uttarakanda of the glorious Padma Purana, comes to its close. Eager to learn more, Yudhishthira, the righteous king, addressed the sage: “O sage, which holy place’s greatness did Narada describe to King Shibi when he had gone to Indra’s sacred site? My heart longs to hear the virtuous conversation between Shibi and Narada, for your words are like nectar to me.” Saubhari, another sage, responded: “O king of righteousness, after hearing Narada’s account of Dvaraka’s greatness, King Shibi respectfully asked him further.” King Shibi said, “O best of gods, son of Brahma, I have heard of the supreme greatness of Dvaraka, which stands on the bank of Indraprastha, and it fills me with wonder. If there is anything equally pure in Ayodhya, please tell me that story, for I thirst for your immortal words.” Narada replied, “There is indeed a virtuous tale here that destroys even the greatest sins—a story concerning a barber and a twice-born named Mukunda, both of whom lived recently. The barber, though a slayer of a Brahmin, and the twice-born, who died young, both attained heaven by the grace of Kosala. “On the bank of the river Chandrabhaga stood a city where a sinful barber named Chandaka lived. He was despised by all, for he would steal the wealth of others, commit wicked deeds, rob travelers with weapons and ropes, and was addicted to gambling and liquor. He lusted after other men’s wives and, in his greed, broke the walls of temples to sell their bricks and stones. “Near his dwelling lived a Brahmin named Mukunda, a man of wealth and skilled in Vedic rites. One night, Mukunda, weary from the pleasures of love, slept deeply beside his young wife, unaware of any danger. In the dead of night, Chandaka entered the house, intent on stealing whatever valuables and ornaments he could find. After taking what was left outside, he returned, determined to break into the inner rooms. But the door was secured with an iron mechanism, and he could not force it open. “Undeterred, Chandaka climbed up and entered the Brahmin’s house from above. There, on the upper story, he found the couple asleep, deeply distressed in their slumber. Desiring their gold ornaments, he reached out to take them from the bed. As he stretched out his hand, Mukunda awoke, startled by the thief’s touch. He said nothing, keeping his eyes closed and lying still, as the thief took the ornaments from his body. “But when Chandaka tried to leave, Mukunda, unable to bear the loss of his wealth, seized the thief with both arms. In a fit of cruelty, Chandaka killed the Brahmin with a dagger. Mukunda, his belly torn open, called out desperately for his father and mother. The people of the house came running, asking what had happened. They found him, his entrails protruding and his body smeared with blood. With great difficulty, Mukunda told his relatives who had done this terrible deed. Thus unfolds the tale, revealing both the darkness of sin and the power of sacred places and stories to grant redemption and liberation.