Bhīṣma, filled with reverence and curiosity, approached the sage and asked, “How did Satī, the noble daughter of Dakṣa, come to abandon her body? And for what reason did the great Rudra destroy Dakṣa’s sacrifice? I am eager to know, O Brahmin, how the illustrious Lord Maheśvara, the conqueror of Tripura, was moved to such anger.” Pulastya, the wise sage, began his narration: “Once, Bhīṣma, at the sacred gateway of the Gaṅgā, Dakṣa undertook a grand sacrifice. To this magnificent event, hosts of gods, demons, ancestors, and great sages assembled from all corners of the universe. All the gods, led by Indra, arrived joyfully; the mighty Nāgas, Yakṣas, Suparṇas, and even the herbs and plants made their presence felt. The venerable sages—Kaśyapa, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Pracetas, Angiras, and Vasiṣṭha, the great ascetic—were all there. Dakṣa had constructed a level altar and established the four sacred fires for the ritual. Vasiṣṭha performed the role of hotṛ priest, while Angiras, foremost among adhvaryus, assisted him. Bṛhaspati took up the role of udgātā, and both Brahmā and Nārada were present, overseeing the sacrificial rites as the fires blazed. The Vasus arrived, as did the twelve Ādityas. The two Aśvins, the Maruts, and the fourteen Manus also joined the gathering. As the sacrifice proceeded and offerings were made into the fires, a wondrous abundance of food and delicacies manifested, gracing the event with prosperity. Over a vast area, stretching for ten yojanas, a great altar was constructed, and all the assembled beings gathered around it. Amidst this splendor, Satī, the virtuous daughter of Dakṣa, looked upon the assembly. Seeing all the gods, with Śakra (Indra) at their head, present at the sacrifice, she approached her father, Prajāpati Dakṣa, and spoke with gentle words: ‘Father, see how the king of the gods, Śatakratu, has arrived upon his mighty Airāvata, accompanied by his wife Śacī. He who punishes the wicked and rules with righteousness is here with Dhūmorṇā, his consort. Varuṇa, lord of the waters and creator of worlds, is present with his wife Gaurī in the pavilion. Kubera, lord of Yakṣas and wealth, son of Viśravas, has also come with his wife, the goddess. Agni, whose mouth is the channel for all the gods and whose belly holds all creatures—the very one for whom the Vedas were created—has come to the sacrifice. Even Niṛti, king of the Rākṣasas and guardian of the quarters, is here with his wife. The life-giving forces—prāṇa, apāna, vyāna, udāna, and samāna—created by Brahmā in ancient times, have also arrived. Prajāpati and Vāyu, the wind god, each surrounded by their own hosts, have come. The twelve-formed lord, overseer of planets, the world’s eye and protector of all realms, is here as well. Bhāskara, lord of life, forests, and days, master of names and purifier of the worlds, has arrived. Soma, the moon-god, lord of herbs and plants and stars, is here with his wife. The eight Vasus, the two Aśvins, the tree and forest lords, and the hosts of Gandharvas and Apsarases are present. Vidyādharas, spirits, Vetālas, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, Piśācas, and those who perform fierce deeds—all these beings and more have come. Rivers, streams, oceans, and islands, along with mountains; all domestic and wild creatures, moving and unmoving, are here. The venerable sages—Kaśyapa, Atri, Vasiṣṭha, Pulastya, Pulaha, and the great Sanaka and his brothers—are all present. Royal sages, all the kings of the earth, people of every caste and stage of life, all who perform their duties—none are absent. In truth, all of Brahmā’s creation has gathered: sisters, nephews, brothers-in-law, and their families. All have been received with gifts, respect, and hospitality. Every invited guest has been honored and consulted. Yet, my lord—my husband—has not come. Without him, all this feels empty to me. I believe, father, that you did not invite my husband. Perhaps you forgot him. Please, tell me the reason.’ Hearing his daughter’s words, Dakṣa, lord of creatures, saw her deep love for her husband—greater even than her love for her own life. He took the virtuous and devoted Satī onto his lap and addressed her with a grave and affectionate voice: ‘Listen, my child, to the truth of why your husband was not invited today. He wanders with a skull-bowl, clothed in animal hide, his body smeared with ashes. He bears a trident, is shaven-headed and naked, and delights in cremation grounds, constantly anointing himself with sacred ash. He wears a tiger skin, is adorned with elephant hide, a garland of skulls crowns his head, and he carries a club in his hand. Cow sinew is tied at his waist, a bone ring is upon his organ, and the king of serpents, Vāsuki, is his sacred thread. In this form, he roams the earth, accompanied by attendants who are naked Piśācas and countless hosts of spirits.’ Thus, the story of Satī’s sorrow and Dakṣa’s reasoning began to unfold—setting the stage for the fateful events that were to come.