At the foot of the ascetic, a crow came and pecked at a worm, an act that left his foot both lame and disfigured. Despite this ominous sign, the ascetic found reassurance in divine words and, filled with detachment, undertook severe austerities at the sacred site of Puṣkara. There, he sustained himself on nothing more than fruits, foam, and the very air itself. For ten thousand years, he devoted himself to worshipping the Grandfather of all, Brahmā. Through the sheer force of his penance, Padmabhu, the lord of gods, was pleased with him. When asked to choose a boon, the ascetic requested the office of world-guardian, dominion over the imperishable realm of the ancestors, and the authority to judge the world’s righteousness and unrighteousness. Padmabhu granted all his wishes: he became the guardian of the world, lord of the ancestors, and judge over righteousness and unrighteousness. Meanwhile, Vivasvān, the radiant Sun, learned of the actions of his wife, Saṃjñā. Overcome with anger, he went to Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine craftsman, and spoke harshly. Tvaṣṭṛ, however, addressed him with gentle words, explaining, “O blessed one, your radiance, which dispels all darkness, was unbearable for her. Assuming the form of a mare, she came to me, and out of fear of you, I restrained her. Because you have come here in a state of confusion, you are not fit to enter my dwelling.” Thus rebuffed, Saṃjñā, unblemished and fearful, fled swiftly to the desert, taking the form of a mare and standing upon the earth. Tvaṣṭṛ then pleaded with the Sun for favor, offering to lessen his radiance and place him within a machine, so that his form might become a source of joy for the worlds. The bewildered Sun agreed. Tvaṣṭṛ separated the Sun’s radiance, fashioning from it the discus of Viṣṇu, the trident of Rudra, and the thunderbolt of Indra. He then created an incomparable new form for the Sun, a destroyer of Daityas and Dānavas, composed of a thousand rays—except for the feet, which were left large and untouched. From that time onward, no one could bear to behold the Sun’s feet, and it was decreed that no one should ever fashion the feet of the Sun in images or shrines. Anyone who did so would be deemed most sinful, destined for suffering and disease, especially leprosy. Therefore, those seeking virtue, desire, or wealth should never portray the feet of the wise Lord of gods. Having restored his form, the blessed Sun, king of the immortals, descended to the earthly realm, longing for Saṃjñā’s face. Taking on the form of a radiant horse, he approached her. Saṃjñā, still agitated and fearful, was deeply disturbed. It is said that, suspecting what was emitted from her nostrils to be foreign, she produced twin sons from her seed—the Aśvins, known as the Nāsaṭyās, born at the tip of her nose. Only after a long time did Saṃjñā realize the truth and find supreme satisfaction. Reunited in joy, the Sun ascended to heaven with his wife in a celestial chariot. Even now, Sāvarṇi Manu performs his austerities on Mount Meru. By the might of his penance, Śani became equal among the planets, while Yamunā and Tapatī were restored to their forms as rivers. Viṣṭhi, of fearsome nature, became established as Time itself. Manu Vaivasvata had ten mighty sons: Ila, who was established through a son-offering, Ikṣvāku, Kuśanābha, Ariṣṭa, Dhṛṣṭa, Nariṣyanta, Karūṣa, Śaryāti, Pṛṣadhra, and Nābhāga—divine and human all. Manu anointed his righteous son Ila as king and returned to Puṣkara for further ascetic practice. There, Brahmā, the bestower of boons, appeared to him and said, “Choose a boon, O descendant of Manu, whatever you desire.” Manu requested that all kings of his lineage should be joined with righteousness and be sovereigns by Brahmā’s grace. Brahmā granted this wish and vanished. Manu returned to Ayodhyā and ruled as before. One day, his son Ila mounted his chariot and set out to fulfill his purpose, traveling across the earth, conquering all the land’s rulers. Drawn by destiny, Ila entered the sacred grove of Śiva, the great Śaravaṇa, famed for its wish-fulfilling creepers. There, Soma, adorned with the crescent moon, delights, and in ancient times, an agreement was made with Umā: “Whatever masculine being enters this forest shall become feminine within a circle of ten yojanas.” Unaware of this decree, King Ila entered Śaravaṇa and was instantly transformed into a woman, her form changed as swiftly as a mare’s. All memories of his former male self faded away. She became known as Ilā—a woman with full, high, dense breasts, prominent hips and thighs, lotus-petal eyes, a slender form, a moon-like face, playful and dark-eyed, with long, full arms, curling dark hair, fine body hair, a lovely face, and a gentle, sweet voice. Her complexion was both dark and fair, her nails slender and coppery, her brows arched like a bow, and she walked with the grace of a swan.