Mṛkaṇḍa, the noble sage, was deeply concerned for his young son. He sought the wisdom of the best among the twice-born, repeatedly questioning him about the marks he had seen on the child’s body. With gentle gravity, the sage replied, “O best of twice-borns, the signs upon this child reveal a sorrowful fate—within six months, he will surely die. Never, not even before my enemies, have I spoken a falsehood.” Hearing this, Mṛkaṇḍa, though stricken with grief, gave the sage leave to go as he wished. Yet the knowledge of his son’s short lifespan weighed heavily on his heart. Still, he guided his son in the path of study and discipline, and the boy, a devoted celibate student, earnestly obeyed his father’s words. Wherever the boy went, whether he saw children, the elderly, or youths, he greeted them with respect. In time, near his father’s hermitage, whenever he encountered holy men, he would hurry to them and offer his salutations. Moved by his humility, the sages would bless him, saying, “May you have a long life,” and the boy rejoiced in their kindness. Among these sages was Aṅgirā, one endowed with divine knowledge. Observing the boy, he spoke with wonder to the assembled sages: “This boy is destined to meet his end on the fifth day. Let us find a way that he may be granted a long life.” With compassion, the sages took the boy and journeyed to the world of Brahmā. When they arrived, the boy, awestruck, did not immediately offer his respects to the Four-faced Lord. The seven sages, delighted at this audience, explained the boy’s plight to Brahmā: “O Four-faced One, just as we, together with you, never speak falsehood, so too is this child’s fate certain—on the fifth day, death will claim him, unless you show mercy.” Brahmā, gladdened by the sight of the young sage, listened to their plea. Delighted, the sages then returned with the boy to their dwelling. Meanwhile, Mṛkaṇḍa, the eminent sage, awaited his son’s return. Seeing his child, he cried out in anguish, “Alas, my son, my son! How has he, without even fulfilling the sacred rites, come under the sway of death?” His lamentations were many and filled with righteousness. But the boy, his heart now light and joyful, came before his father. Mṛkaṇḍa seated him on his lap and gently asked why he had been gone so long, and about the wonder of seeing Brahmā’s world, the lotus-born. “For my sake, speak the truth, so that my mind may find peace. I, too, will worship the Four-faced One in the same way.” Hearing these nectar-like words from his son, the sage Mṛkaṇḍa was comforted. He soon journeyed to the sacred Arbuda mountain, as did many before him. In that holy hermitage, especially in the month of Śrāvaṇa, the full fruit of ancestral rites could certainly be gained. Whoever, following the example of the sages, satisfied the foremost Brāhmaṇas there, or bathed with faith in those sacred waters, was blessed. Thereafter, O best of kings, one should approach the supreme linga, Uddalakeśvara, the remover of all sin. Merely by touching, seeing, or especially worshipping this linga, one is freed from all sins and honored in the realm of Shiva. Thus ends the sacred account of the glory of Uddalakeśvara, as told in the third Arbudakhanda of the seventh Prabhasa section of the Skanda Mahapurana.