At this sacred place, the twin Aśvins would gather, purify themselves with holy baths, and offer their worship to Śaṃkara. The site, known as Pāṇḍava, was famed for granting both worldly desires and the ultimate liberation. Here, Dhātrī herself would assemble, bringing with her all the fruits endowed with healing powers. In the month of Āṣāḍha, the mighty Viśvedevās would depart from this realm, while the revered Vaiśvadeva tīrtha stood to the north of the sacred sites of Soma and Sūrya. All around, the sanctified ground revealed itself, especially radiant in the beautiful eastern direction. To the north, in ancient times, flowed the holy Skanda river; to the west, the renowned and auspicious Kumbha river coursed. The Ganga remained rooted at the base, while the Yamuna was established high in the sky, and countless other sacred places sprang up throughout the land. Through intense austerities, a devotee pleased the Lord of Shonadri. The most renowned of these sacred sites became manifest, yet their true nature remains difficult to grasp for those of limited understanding. How, indeed, could any human on earth hope to witness all these divine presences gathered in one place? You, whose inner brilliance is veiled, came there along with all the gods. And I, after worshipping Shambhu with great austerity at the Aruna mountain, was blessed with a celestial palace crafted by Viśvakarma, resplendent with countless celebrations. The eminent sages acquired various treatises on dharma there, and I too, through my devotion to Shambhu, received the sacred knowledge that arises from offerings into the holy fire. In ages past, kings who had conquered their foes and secured their realms would behold this wondrous and prosperous manifestation: the Shiva-linga in the form of a mountain, a vision that destroys all sin. It stands as a protector for those who bow in reverence, and by simply remembering it, all the impurities of the world are washed away. But how did peace come to all living beings? How did these sacred places arise from the auspicious Aruna mountain? In the Dvapara Yuga, the mountain was golden; in Kali Yuga, it became emerald. In the Krita age, it stretched for many yojanas and was made of fire. Gradually, the illustrious Lord of Aruna, at the gods’ request, grew peaceful. Then Gaurī asked the sage, “How did Arunachala become peaceful?” Hearing her, Gautama replied: Long ago, the gods offered their praises, worshipping through sacrifices, and addressed the Lord of Arunachala, benefactor of all worlds—he who is coppery, reddish, or tawny, most auspicious. “Salutations to the copper-hued, to the reddish, to Shiva, the supreme Self. O Deva, your form is the entirety of existence, both moving and unmoving. May there be abundant rainfall from clouds and many streams. The waters that arise from fire are yours alone, O supreme Self. O Mahadeva, merciful Lord of the red mountain, become cool and gentle.” Thus, praised and worshipped by all the gods, the Lord was pleased. Once more, rivers and streams with abundant water began to flow. Yet, even as the rivers returned, hundreds of millions of blazing fires from the rising young sun continued to shine, releasing the waters of the universe so that the rivers and their streams could flow anew.