With a mind focused and intent, the pilgrim sets forth toward the secret place and the presence of Mahākāla. Once this is accomplished, and established in deep meditation, he proceeds to the supreme Lord Durvāsa. Through the practice of breath control, he draws near to Durvāsa, and there, offering worship in every possible way, he finally releases his breath in reverence. By the mere sight of Durvāsa, the pilgrim is freed from the fear of Yama’s realm; death and its terrors hold no sway over him. Simply beholding the sage ensures that deafness will never afflict him. Yet, if one neglects to recite Durvāsa’s name, the merit of the pilgrimage is lost and its purpose unfulfilled. Therefore, filled with devotion, the pilgrim bows repeatedly and speaks with humility: “O Lord of the world, lift me from this dreadful ocean of worldly existence.” By this act of devotion, it is as if he has circumambulated the entire earth with its seven continents. Just one circumambulation of the God of gods yields the merit of a sacrifice at every step—so Śaṃkara himself revealed. Through worship of the Lord of pilgrimage, all other deities are honored as well. If one offers a thousand gifts in this sacred place, the merit gained is immeasurable. Having completed the pilgrimage, the devotee returns home and honors Śiva’s devotees, those steadfast in meditation upon Śiva. Following the prescribed order, he traverses each gateway of the pilgrimage in turn, and, with a pure heart, gives a milch cow without deceit. He feeds the destitute, the helpless, the poor, the blind, and the afflicted. After rescuing a hundred families, he serves his mother and father with deep devotion. Through silence and absorption in meditation, such a person attains poetic inspiration, for in the mere presence of the Lord, the gift of poetic speech arises. There was a man whose wife, Kauśikī, was endowed with beauty and youth. To them was born a son named Agniśarman. After many years, a severe drought struck. The wise Brahmin, with his wife and son, endured great hardship. In time, Agniśarman fell into bad company, associating with the Ābhīras and bandits. As a result, memory faded, the Vedas were forgotten, the family lineage was lost, and the sacred tradition disappeared. At this time, the seven sages, steadfast in their vows, came along that path. They instructed, “Remove these garments, as well as your cloak and shoes.” Hearing this, Atri replied, “We have become ascetics, intent on pilgrimage to holy places.” He continued, “I always sustain them; this is firmly established in my heart. If a sin has been committed for your sake, tell me whose it is. If they speak, let them not lie; do not kill living beings.” The words of the sages awakened understanding within him. Determined, he resolved, “I will go and ask them all whose disposition is like what.” With this, he hurried to his father and spoke: “A great sin is seen—whose is it? Tell me about it.” His father replied, “You know what you have done; what has been done must again be done by you.” His mother, too, declared, “The sin is not mine; truly, this sin is yours alone.