Having brought the oil to his own home, the devoted Brahmin Kapila worshipped Lord Keśava with the deepest reverence. To please Hari, he lit a lamp with supreme devotion, letting its gentle glow shine before the Lord. As Kapila continued in this way, a cat, fierce and sharp-toothed, took up residence in his house. Night and day, the cat came for the mice, its mind fixed solely on food. It would always sit before the image of Nārāyaṇa, waiting and watching. Many mice met their end in the Brahmin’s house, especially those who slipped in to steal oil or pilfer the wicks from the lamp. The cat, absorbed in its own intent, would eat these mice as they came, all while Kapila remained deep in meditation. And so, time passed in this manner. One day, on the sacred Ekadashi, Kapila—pure in heart and home—joined his wife in observing a fast and worshipping Lord Achyuta. That night, they performed a vigil, singing hymns and dancing in devotion. But as midnight came, fatigue and sleep overcame the Brahmin. Meanwhile, the ever-watchful cat, quick and silent, lingered in the corner, eyeing the offerings. It noticed a small mouse, accustomed to sneaking out to drink oil and steal the wick from the faintly burning lamp. The mouse darted out, and as it hurried back to its hole, its foot struck the wick—rekindling the lamp with a sudden, bright flame. In the confusion, the oil vessel tipped, causing the entire room to fill with radiant light. Awakened by the brightness, Kapila shook off his sleep. The cat, too, remained awake that night, intent as ever on catching mice. As dawn broke clear and pure, the Brahmin performed his daily rites, and after that, he broke his fast with his family. Thus, as the great-hearted Kapila continued his life of devotion, he was blessed with sons and grandsons, abundant wealth and grain, robust health, and supreme prosperity. By the power of his vow to keep the lamp burning before the Lord, Kapila ultimately attained liberation. He traversed the sacred paths of the sun and moon, and the Supreme Self, manifesting as the very light of the lamp, welcomed him. In time, the mouse too met its end within its hole. Then, ascending a splendid celestial chariot, Kapila was honored by gods, gandharvas, apsarases, and vidyadharas. He was praised with auspicious cries of victory and blessings, and the nagas paid him homage as he journeyed to the world of Vishnu. There, for countless millions of aeons, he enjoyed divine pleasures, until finally, he was born again on earth as a king. In this new birth, he was named Sudharma—a righteous soul, worshipper of gods and Brahmins, handsome, fortunate, strong, and valorous. His beloved wife, Rūpasundarī, was graced with all auspicious marks, devoted, virtuous, and the most fortunate among women. Together, they were blessed with many sons and noble daughters. As the couple joyfully spent their days, the sacred month of Kārttika arrived—the time that awakens the eyes of Lord Hari. In this month, devotees of Nārāyaṇa light lamps and observe vows such as Kṛcchra, Cāndrāyaṇa, and other spiritual disciplines. These practices are held by those devoted to Viṣṇu and those who seek liberation from worldly suffering. When the auspicious day of Prabodhinī arrived, King Sudharma spoke to his queen: “O fortunate one, today is holy Prabodhinī, arising from the lotus-navel of Viṣṇu. I will worship the Lord today, fasting and restraining my senses.” He continued, “After bathing at the sacred Puṣkara, I will worship the lotus-eyed, imperishable Lord Janārdana, together with Lakṣmī.” Hearing her husband’s cherished wish, Rūpasundarī, her face adorned with a gentle smile, confided in him: “My lord, a desire has also arisen in my heart—a longing for beauty and charm. I wish to go with you to the foremost holy place, Puṣkara.” So the king and queen set out together, accompanied by their retinue of elephants, horses, chariots, and priests. Upon arrival, they bathed, meditated, and offered oblations to ancestors and deities. They worshipped the lotus-eyed, imperishable Lord in a temple adorned with beautiful rows of lamps. Inside the temple, the king saw an image of a cat. At that moment, memories of his previous life returned—he remembered his ordinary birth as a cat. Looking upon his beloved’s lotus-like face, he laughed gently. Rūpasundarī, noticing his smile, asked, “Husband, what is the reason for your joy?” With his heart gladdened, the king began to recount the fruits of his past actions: “Once, O goddess, I was a cat in the house of a brāhmaṇa. There, I ate hundreds of thousands of mice. But because I protected the lamp before Nārāyaṇa—even if only by chance—I received the fruit of that act: I attained Viṣṇu’s world and now have obtained a kingdom.” Rūpasundarī replied, “I too remember my previous ordinary birth. I was a small mouse in the house of a brāhmaṇa. During Kārttika, on Prabodhinī, when the lamp had grown dim, I came out of my hole to take the tip of the wick. Seeing Nārāyaṇa being worshipped with flowers, and the brāhmaṇa overcome by sleep, I pulled the wick.” Thus, both king and queen remembered their humble pasts and the simple acts that, by the grace of Lord Nārāyaṇa, had led them to their blessed present.