At times, the goddess Parvati found joy in conversations about knowledge and tradition, exchanging wisdom with those around her. Sometimes, wondrous objects would captivate her attention, filling her days with marvels. There were moments spent gathering flowers, and playful times splashing in the cool waters. She was honored by Maināka and worshipped by Menā, her presence cherished among the divine. Amusements such as dice games brought laughter, and lively conversations kept her spirit bright. When fortune favored her and she reclaimed what was lost in dice, Parvati returned to her husband, Lord Shiva, filled with delight. Thus, these two—parents of all moving and unmoving beings—dwelt amidst the golden mountains and other sacred places. Parvati also cared for the people, providing them with cooked food and drink, satisfying their needs. Sometimes, as twilight descended, she closed her eyes in meditation, seeking inner peace. Observing her, others wondered if some fortunate woman was meditating now, inspired by the goddess’s example. Yet, the crookedness of men's minds remained a mystery, impossible to fully know. Parvati reflected: “If today he has kindness toward me in his heart, perhaps it is true.” She recalled Shiva’s words: “From today onward, I am your servant, purchased by your austerities.” But she pondered the fickleness of love in women with deluded minds, realizing it was not always equal or constant. Thus, mingling affection and anger, Parvati’s heart became troubled. Her eyes reddened and overflowed with tears, streams of weeping betraying her inner turmoil. The tilaka mark on her brow was broken apart, her lower lip trembling with suppressed anger. Parvati’s cheeks flushed deeply, her emotions overwhelming her. Within, her breasts quivered, shaken by inner trembling. She thought, “Surely this is due to my lack of good fortune.” Resolving to leave, she wondered, “What is there here for me alone?” With closed eyes, she quietly decided to depart. Even as she decided, Ganga, ever affectionate, continued to nurture her sons, steadfast in her love. Parvati withdrew swiftly from Shiva’s side, accompanied by Calavati, Malyavati, Malini, Vijaya, and Jaya. Together, they wandered through sacred mountains, forests, and cities, seeking solace. Roaming at the foot of the Sahya mountains in the Dravida region, they found a good retreat. Ahead, everything appeared radiant and red, and in the valleys, the hermitages of ascetics could be seen. “Let us go and observe these holy hermitages,” Parvati said to her companions. In this way, O friend, the daughter of the mountain gradually delighted Shiva’s heart, even in her absence. The landscape was alive with creatures: lizards drew out threads, crocodiles carried away waterweeds, and Camara antelopes with thick hair swept away refuse with their tails. Monkeys took the fruits and flowers, while bears gathered honey-laden leaves. The air resounded with the calls of cuckoos, owls, parrots, hawks, deer, tigers, and even green elephants. The fragrance of offerings from ancient sacrifices lingered in the air, a reminder of the sacredness of the place. There, the enemies of crows recited the Śatarudrīya hymn, their voices echoing among the vegetables and rice fields where tigers and cows also roamed. In a beautiful, sacred, and enchanting place, beneath the seven-leaved tree, Parvati sat upon a variegated tiger skin, surrounded by the wonders of nature and the sanctity of the land.