There exists a most wondrous and sacred mountain, a dwelling place for perfected beings, great sages, and those who have dedicated themselves to auspicious vows. This mountain surpasses even the renowned peaks of Sumeru, Kailāsa, and Mandara in its majesty and sanctity. So exalted is its realm that even the gods in heaven yearn for the fortune of the creatures who reside there. The trees that grow upon this mountain are greater than even the wish-fulfilling trees of legend, unmatched in their splendor. Remarkably, even hunters—men whose lives are steeped in violence—are transformed in appearance simply by dwelling in this place. The clouds that drift through its skies gently brush against its soaring peaks, while melodious birds fill the air with song, and even the bamboo reeds seem to resound with music. During the dark fortnight, fireflies shimmer in the night as if recalling some ancient memory. The trees lining the riverbanks here are united in perfect harmony, never hindered in their growth. At night, the very stars come so near that they seem to touch the summits of this lofty mountain. Animals of all kinds roam freely across its slopes, and even the Śabaras, forest-dwelling tribes, are commonly found near its base. Why prolong the description? Even those who are the sons of two mothers—half-brothers, often rivals—feel envy for the beings who dwell on this mountain. Here, lions, tigers, and elephants have abandoned their mortal bodies, transcending their ordinary natures. In the east, the radiant mountain Bhāskara stands; to the west, the great mountain Daṇḍa rises. To the south of Śoṇa mountain lies Amarācala, and in the north are caves inhabited by perfected beings. Many other mountains abound at the farthest limits of this land, all of which support the flourishing trees. When one beholds the lord of these mountains, Menā and Himavān—the parents of Pārvatī—are revealed. The mountain itself is adorned with trees and creepers, its matted locks marked by verdant growth. On either side of its shining peak, the sun and moon are present, casting their radiant light. In the rainy season, dense, dark clouds gather beneath the summit, shrouding it in mystery. This lord of mountains is described as having a thousand feet and a thousand heads, a being of immense and wondrous form. It is no wonder that countless rivers disappear into his head, their streams vanishing into his vastness. In the autumn, clouds encircle him like a girdle, and the peaks are tinged with blue and red hues, clinging to their tips. The mountain is extremely difficult to access, possessing a natural fierceness—not merely in name, but in reality. Here, the serpent lords—Takṣaka, Ananta, and others—contend among themselves for supremacy. The mountain reveals its own eightfold form for all to see. In the midst of Śiva’s sacred peak, the Suṣumnā, the lotus-river, flows gracefully. It was here that Brahmā and Viṣṇu, seeking to discover the limits of Śiva, assumed the forms of a swan and a boar, respectively. Together with their beloveds, they approached the one known as the Lord of Arunachala. Engaging in intense austerities, they directly beheld Sadāśiva himself. Yet even with their devotion, they could not obtain the left half of the gracious enemy of Manmatha—Lord Śiva’s consort. Upon this mountain, the linga is established, bestowing enjoyment and ultimately liberation to all who seek it. This sacred linga grants the virtuous the accomplishment of mantra without any obstacle. With a single immersion in its presence, it destroys the five great sins of humankind. Even a single act of reverent salutation there is enough to wipe away all sins, such is the power and sanctity of this most exalted mountain.