Hearing those words, I could not help but laugh heartily. In that very moment, an extraordinary thing occurred—a stream of ash, white as freshly fallen snow, began to emerge. See, O Brahmin, how abundant ash issued forth from my thumb! Witnessing this astonishing wonder, the illustrious Brahmin, foremost among the twice-born, was overcome with shame. With his palms joined in reverence and his heart filled with amazement, he spoke, “Such power as this exists nowhere else in the three worlds.” He continued, “For the virtuous, dancing that opposes austerity and leads to its decline is a forbidden act. Yet, O Lord, through my own dance, this has suddenly come upon me.” Hearing his words, I addressed the best of Brahmins: “With this knowledge, O foremost of Brahmins, what desire of yours shall I fulfill?” The sage replied, “If you are pleased, O Lord—compassionate to those who seek refuge—grant me your favor.” O Pārvatī, with a gracious mind, I spoke to that Brahmin, saying, “Within this very cave abides the meritorious liṅga, which has arisen through seven aeons. There, you will behold the auspicious liṅga, sacred through the passage of ages. By its grace, sin born of desire and anger, accompanied by greed and delusion, is destroyed.” Hearing my words, the Brahmin, learned in the Vedas, set forth with discipline, bowing repeatedly in reverence. There, he beheld the liṅga, supreme in its power to increase austerity. Meanwhile, O Goddess, the gods themselves spoke from the sky: “By the very sight of this, the Brahmin has attained supreme success, a blessing exceedingly difficult to obtain. Those who, with utmost devotion, behold the Lord of the Cave—who see him on the eighth or fourteenth day, or who come here with effort and behold him—even those who have committed thousands of sins—are purified. Be it the sin of killing a Brahmin, drinking liquor, theft, or approaching the wife of one’s teacher—whatever inauspicious deed has been accumulated over hundreds of millions of births—those embodied beings on earth afflicted by great sins are liberated.” Having spoken thus, O Goddess, the divine sage Maṅkaṇaka, the twice-born, declared: “This, O Goddess, is the power that destroys sin, as has been described.” Indeed, the liṅga removes all sins and destroys the misdeeds of men. Now, O Goddess, hear another tale. Once, on Mount Kailāsa, there was a leader of the Gaṇas named Ḍhuṇḍha. Out of curiosity and by his own will, he journeyed to the realm of Indra. There, he beheld many delightful gestures—beautiful movements of eyes and hands, gestures as subtle as a needle’s point, and mudrās such as the flag and others. Indra himself, along with the gods, watched intently, their gaze fixed upon her face. Meanwhile, Ḍhuṇḍha, ever playful, was present. There, the celestial dancer Rambhā, absorbed in her dance, was suddenly struck with a bouquet of flowers. A voice declared, “Fall, you, to the world of humans! You have disrupted the performance.” Thus, Rambhā fell into the world of humans, her senses bewildered and unconscious from the shock. Regaining awareness, she lamented, “Alas, I have received the fruit of injustice, having acted out of delusion. Yet, by taking refuge in the path of righteousness, may I attain success.” Resolute, she began to undertake severe austerities upon the great mountain Maheṃdra.