In the earliest age, before the world took its present form, there were no cities, villages, or fortresses, nor men who wielded weapons. It was a time free of suffering, and the science of accumulating wealth held no regard. When Pṛthu became the sovereign, his subjects devoted themselves wholly to righteousness. As you have asked, the vessels and the milk—the means by which the earth nourished her children—have already been described to you. To each person, according to their known desires, gifts were given, and every splendor of sacrifice was offered in their fullness. The earth, by following the guidance of King Pṛthu, became his daughter, and thus, among the wise, she is celebrated as Pṛthivī. Hearing this, Bhīṣma, ever eager for knowledge, addressed Pulastya: “Tell me, O knower of truth, the entire lineage of the Adityas, and also the Soma dynasty, as it should rightly be told.” Pulastya replied: “Long ago, Vivasvān was born to Kaśyapa and Aditi. Vivasvān, the radiant Sun, took three wives—Saṃjñā, Rājñī, and Prabhā. Rājñī, the daughter of Raivata, bore a son named Revata. Prabhā gave birth to Prabhāta, while Saṃjñā bore Tvaṣṭṛ and Manu. To Saṃjñā were also born Yama and Yamunā, and the twins known as Yamala. Yet, unable to bear the dazzling radiance of Vivasvān, Saṃjñā and her children assumed different forms. From his own body, Vivasvān created a flawless woman, her form as radiant as his own, and named her Chāyā. Standing before this new being, he instructed her, ‘Chāyā, serve my husband faithfully, O beautiful one. Protect my children with a mother’s affection.’ Chāyā, virtuous and obedient, agreed and went to Vivasvān, desiring union. Vivasvān, believing her to be Saṃjñā, accepted her respectfully, and from their union was born Sāvarṇi Manu, who resembled Manu in every way. Because of this similarity, he was called Sāvarṇi, the son of Vaivasvata Manu. In due course, Chāyā also bore two daughters—Tapatī and the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ. With Chāyā, the Sun also begot a son named Saṃjñeya. Yet Chāyā’s affection for her own son surpassed that for Manu. Manu, the elder, could not endure this difference in affection. Yama, overcome by anger, threatened Chāyā, raising his right foot in defiance. Chāyā, incensed, cursed Yama: ‘May this foot of yours be afflicted with worms, and may it alone ooze with pus and blood.’ Distressed by the curse, Yama went to his father, Vivasvān, lamenting, ‘O god, I have been cursed by my mother without cause, in anger. In childishness, I raised my foot just once, and even though Manu tried to restrain me, she cursed me thus, O lord. She is not truly our mother, for her affection is not equal to ours.’ Vivasvān replied, ‘What can I do, O wise one? Who does not suffer for the sake of happiness? Perhaps it is the chain of actions—if even beings like you cannot avoid it, what of others? At your foot, a crow will eat the worm; this foot will be both lame and disfigured.’ Thus consoled, Yama undertook severe austerities at the sacred Puṣkara, living only on fruits, foam, and air, moved by detachment. For ten thousand years, he worshipped the Grandfather, Brahmā, and by the power of his penance, Padmabhu, the Lord of gods, was satisfied. Yama asked for the role of the world’s guardian, sovereignty over the ancestors, and the authority to judge the world in matters of righteousness and unrighteousness. Thus, by the grace of Padmabhu, Yama attained the position of world-guardian, lordship over the ancestors, and the authority to judge right and wrong. Meanwhile, Vivasvān, realizing Saṃjñā’s actions, approached Tvaṣṭṛ, filled with anger, and spoke to him. Tvaṣṭṛ addressed Vivasvān gently: ‘O blessed one, your radiance, which dispels all darkness, was unbearable for her. Assuming the form of a mare, she came to me here; I restrained her, O lord of the day, out of fear of you. Now, since you have come here with a mind not at peace, you are not fit to enter my dwelling.’ Hearing this, Saṃjñā, unblemished, fled swiftly to the desert, taking the form of a mare and standing upon the earth. Tvaṣṭṛ then said to Vivasvān, ‘If I am worthy of your grace, show me your favor. I will reduce your radiance, placing the Sun in a machine. I will shape your form, O Lord, into one that brings joy to the worlds.’ The Sun, bewildered, agreed. Tvaṣṭṛ separated the Sun’s radiance and from it fashioned the discus of Viṣṇu, the trident of Rudra, and the thunderbolt of Indra. He then created an incomparable form for the Sun, a destroyer of Daityas and Dānavas, composed of a thousand rays—all except for the feet, which were great and unique. From that time, no one was able to behold the Sun’s feet, and even today, it is forbidden to depict them. Whoever does so is considered most sinful, condemned, and afflicted with suffering such as leprosy. Therefore, those who seek virtue, desire, or wealth should never, anywhere, fashion the feet of the wise Lord of gods in images or shrines. Having thus received his new form, the blessed Sun, king of the immortals, descended to the earthly world, his heart overcome by longing for Saṃjñā’s face. Assuming the form of a horse, radiant and resplendent, he approached Saṃjñā, who, agitated and fearful, was disturbed in her mind. It is said that, suspecting something foreign was emitted from her nostrils, from their union the divine twins, the Aśvins, were born. Thus unfolded the wondrous tale of the Sun, his family, and the birth of the Aśvins, as it was in the ancient days.