Listen, as I recount the sacred narrative drawn from these venerable verses. The fruit of offering even a single circumambulation to the God of gods is immense. With every step taken in devotion, one gains the merit of a great sacrifice—so Śaṃkara himself declared. In this holy place, all deities are worshipped through the veneration of the Lord of pilgrimage. If a person gives a thousand offerings, the merit that accrues is wondrous indeed. Thus, after completing the pilgrimage, a man should return to his own home. There, he ought to feed devotees of Śiva—those who are steadfast in their meditation upon the Lord. Following the proper order of the pilgrimage, he should traverse each sacred gateway in turn, honoring the tradition. It is also prescribed that he give a milch cow, with pure intent and free from any deceit regarding wealth. Furthermore, he should feed those who are destitute, helpless, poor, blind, and afflicted. Having rescued a hundred families from suffering, one should serve one’s own mother and father with true devotion. By embracing silence and becoming absorbed in meditation, such a person attains poetic inspiration—a gift that arises merely in his presence. His wife, Kauśikī, was endowed with beauty and youth, and to them was born a son named Agniśarman. In the course of time, a severe drought befell the land. The wise Brahmin, together with his wife and son, faced hardship. During this period, Agniśarman fell into the company of the Ābhīras and bandits. In that association, memory was lost, the Vedas disappeared, the family lineage vanished, and the sacred traditions were forgotten. It was then that the seven great sages, steadfast in their vows, arrived along that path. They instructed, “Remove these garments, as well as your cloak and shoes.” On hearing these words, Atri replied, “We have become ascetics, intent on pilgrimage to holy places. I always sustain them; this is firmly established in my heart. If any sin is committed for your sake, tell me whose it is. If they speak, let them not lie; and let no living beings be killed.” Moved by these words, Agniśarman felt understanding awaken within him. He resolved, “I will go and ask them all whose disposition is like what.” So, with haste, he went 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 said, “The sin is not mine; truly, this sin is yours alone.” Knowing their hearts and actions in truth, Agniśarman cast aside the black club by which creatures had been slain. He bowed down, his body touching the ground, and spoke humbly, “Freed by all of them, I have come to you for refuge.” Seeing him thus, the sages spoke to Atri, “This one should be accepted by you; let him be your disciple, O sage. Through meditation-yoga and the recitation of the great mantra, established at the root of the tree, he will attain supreme accomplishment.” Having spoken thus, the sages departed as they wished, and Agniśarman remained there. As he remained unmoving in deep meditation, a termite mound formed above him. From within the mound, a wondrous sound was uttered by him, and all who heard it were filled with awe and wonder.