At dawn, the leader of all beings humbly accepted the command given to him, bowing his head in reverence. By my own instruction, Sanatkumara too was engaged in intense austerity atop Meru, seeking favor for this assembly of Shiva’s attendants. Before meeting Ganesha, it was necessary for the sages to visit Sanatkumara; soon, for the sake of his favor, Nandi himself would arrive there. Thus, urgently instructed by the lord of yogis, the sages made their way to Kumara’s peak on the southern side of the sacred mountain Meru. There, they beheld Skanda-saras, a lake vast as the ocean, its waters sweet as nectar—cool, clear, both deep and shallow. The lake was bordered all around by heaps of crystal rocks, and its shores bloomed with flowers from every season. Moss, blue lotuses, red lotuses, and white water lilies resembling stars adorned its surface, while waves shone like clouds, making it seem as if the sky itself had descended to earth. The shores offered pleasant places for entering and exiting the water, with landings crafted from blue stone. Beautiful stairways and paths radiated in all eight directions. Those who had bathed wore white sacred threads, pure white loincloths, and bark garments. Young ascetics, their hair matted in topknots or shaven heads, adorned with three horizontal lines, smiled in serene detachment. They carried water pots, pitchers made from lotus leaves, auspicious vessels, and ladles in their hands. Constantly, for themselves, for others, and especially for the gods, they brought water and fresh flowers. Some stood on submerged stones in the water, careful not to touch those of lower status, observing proper conduct, their bodies dusted with sacred ash. Others, either immersed or emerging from the water, or sitting on stones, offered sesame seeds with husks, flowers, and blades of sacred grass. After performing offerings to gods, sages, and ancestors, they presented water to the learned twice-born who came daily for bathing. At each place, various offerings of food and flowers were made, and fanning was performed, worshipping with solar water and other rites at the altars. In some spots, elephants from scattered herds submerged and emerged; elsewhere, deer, antelope, and horses arrived, driven by thirst. Peacocks and noble elephants drank and departed, while bulls, striking the banks, shone as they faced each other. The lake resonated with the calls of noble ducks, the cries of cranes, the cooing of cuckoos, and the humming of bees. Birds living on the trees bathed and drank, affectionately and constantly chattering as if conversing among themselves. The branches along the banks were filled with cuckoos calling day and night, reciting their names, exhausted by the heat. On the northern shore of this lake, beneath a wish-fulfilling tree, upon a platform of diamond stone and a soft deerskin, Sanatkumara was seated. Ever youthful in appearance, he had just risen from meditation, his mind unwavering. Worshipped by sages and honored even by the greatest yogis, the sages of Naimisha saw him and approached, bowing respectfully. As they inquired about his arrival, a tumultuous sound of celestial drums echoed in the sky. At that very moment, a radiant aerial chariot appeared, shining like the sun and surrounded by countless leaders of Shiva’s attendants. The chariot was crowded with celestial nymphs, encircled by the daughters of Rudra, resounding with drums and murajas, accompanied by melodies of flutes and lutes. It was richly adorned with jewel canopies, strings of pearls, and attended by sages, perfected beings, celestial musicians, yakshas, charanas, and kinnaras. Dancers, singers, and musicians surrounded it, and it bore the emblem of the heroic bull and a staff of vidrama wood. A grand gateway and a banner marked its reverence. In the center of the chariot, between two fly-whisks, beneath a jeweled staff and a pure white parasol, sat Nandi, like the moon, upon a divine lion-throne with his illustrious consort. He was resplendent in glory and form, with three eyes, surrounded by ramparts signifying the Lord’s recognition. It seemed as if the unbreakable command of the Creator of the universe had arrived, as if Shiva’s universal grace stood manifest before their eyes. There was the son of Shilada himself, bearing the blessed trident and boar-weapon, chief of Shiva’s hosts, like another Lord of the universe. Capable of both restraint and favor even towards the creators of the world, he was four-armed, noble-bodied, adorned with the crescent moon, with a serpent around his neck and the moon on his head as ornaments. Sovereignty and active power seemed embodied in him; liberation itself appeared complete, and omniscience had taken form. Seeing him, the son of Brahma and the sages were filled with joy. Sanatkumara stood with joined palms, offering himself as if to his very self. As the chariot descended to earth, he bowed down like a staff to Nandi, praising him, and addressed the sages: “These six families have long been engaged in the Naimisha sacrifice, having come here by Brahma’s command, desiring this from the beginning.” Hearing Sanatkumara’s words, Nandi, with a mere glance, instantly cut their bonds, granting them Shaiva law, divine knowledge, and yoga. Then, he returned to the side of the gods.