Simply by hearing this sacred account, the destruction of even the gravest sins is assured. Listen, then, to the story of three holy rivers—Revā, Carmaṇvatī, and Kṣātā—who, in times long past, were pure, delightful, and filled with sanctifying waters. These rivers were renowned as destroyers of sin. Once, in a beautiful grove within the excellent fields of Māndhātṛ, a minor fault arose in their association, leading to their separation. Previously, they had dwelled together in the delightful Mahākāla forest, finding companionship and sanctity in each other’s presence. Among all the sacred waters there, Rudrasara was known as the foremost, the best and most revered. Eventually, the three noble rivers arrived and mingled at Rudrasara, taking refuge in the Śiprā, where, as the dust was cleansed, a fire was instantly kindled and declared. Desiring to understand these events, a seeker approached the wise sage, Sanatkumāra, with reverence, saying, “O foremost knower of Brahman, tell me the truth of these matters.” Sanatkumāra replied: In ancient times, Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine artisan, gave his daughter Sāvitrī in marriage to Sūrya, the Sun. Ever devoted to her duties as a wife, Sāvitrī served Sūrya, the eye of the world, with great faithfulness. From their union, Yama—son of Vivasvat—was born, as well as Yamunā, the river who purifies the worlds. Tvaṣṭṛ entrusted these children to Sāvitrī, saying, “I have placed this pair in your embrace; you must protect them. Always devoted to the worship of the Sun, dwell in my house.” Having made this agreement, Sāvitrī departed. But immediately, her father restrained her, and she assumed the form of a mare. At that time, Vaivasvata, feeling hunger, approached and begged for food. In response, Chāyā, who stood in Sāvitrī’s place, was struck by his foot. Angered, Chāyā cursed him: “Therefore, you shall ever be lame in your foot—there is no doubt.” Meanwhile, Vyāsa had insulted the earth, and when Vibhāvasu saw his son crippled, he spoke with sorrow. When questioned by Savitṛ, the radiant lord of the worlds, the son replied, “For my morning meal, O master, I begged at my mother’s presence. Immediately, my feet failed, overcome by my mother’s curse. This is the strange tale of why my mother cursed me. “But she is not the lovely-eyed daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ, purifier of the world. Sāvitrī has gone to her father’s house; she forbade me, O sinless one. Nothing at all should be spoken to Savitṛ by Chāyā.” Hearing this, the blessed Tvaṣṭṛ was filled with anger and approached Sūrya. Upon seeing Tvaṣṭṛ, the patriarch of the world, Sūrya rose swiftly, bowed at his feet, circled him, and showed him utmost respect. Tvaṣṭṛ said, “She has come to your house, dear one, following my path.” When Tvaṣṭṛ spoke these words, Ravi—the Sun—was troubled in mind. He wondered, “What shall I do? Where shall I go? Where is my beloved? My radiance has been lost, broken, and has gone somewhere, deprived of its strength. Now, let it please you completely; do as is fitting.” Hearing these words, Tvaṣṭṛ fashioned Sudarśana from a blade, with just a touch of its edge, making it for Vivasvat, the Sun. Then, in the presence of Sūrya, Tvaṣṭṛ spoke sweet words, “Let it be taken, O best of gods; let it quickly go to the meadow.” Thus unfolded the tale of divine rivers, the Sun, and Sāvitrī—each act and word resonating with the power to absolve sins for those who listen with devotion.