The Lord declared, “Due to my association with the wicked, I shall become unapproachable.” Yet, in his compassion, he proclaimed that all the sacred tīrthas—those holy places upon the earth and even those in the netherworld—would, by his command, gather there to serve him. Thus addressed, the river goddess Śiprā took up the dreadful Kālakūṭa poison. She placed this potent, fearsome poison upon the head of the liṅga, the sacred symbol of Śiva. It was said that any creature—beast, bird, or human—who beheld that form of Śiva would be transformed by the sight. At this time, ascetics arrived at the site, undertaking a pilgrimage to honor the divine presence. But as the Kālakūṭa poison settled upon the liṅga, a cry of distress arose from all beings in the three worlds. Yet, by the compassionate glance of Pārvatī, life and vitality were restored to all. Reverent brāhmaṇas gathered and began to praise the Lord with many hymns, their voices raised in devotion. Bowing low, they prayed for the welfare of the worlds, saying, “O Lord of the universe, grant us this boon—protect all beings, O Master.” The Lord assured them, “This liṅga will indeed become a source of safety and health.” At that moment, Lakulīśa, the divine being, would become touchable to all. He would be renowned throughout the world as Kuṭumbeśvara. By the Lord’s command, Lakulīśa ascended and united with that liṅga. To those who beheld the liṅga known as Kuṭumbeśvara, the Lord promised great blessings. Whoever performed the sacred viewing on the fifth day of the bright fortnight of Ashvina would attain prosperity and freedom from disease. Those who approached with devotion—seeing, touching, and worshipping, especially near a river, pond, or well, and after bathing with focused mind on a Monday or Sunday—would gain merit equal to a thousand Rajasuya sacrifices and a hundred Vajapeya sacrifices. “This, O Devi,” the Lord said, “I have revealed to you. Its power destroys all sin.” Simply by seeing Kuṭumbeśvara, one attains fame and renown. In ancient times, there was a king named Indradyumna, lord of the earth. He witnessed many grand sacrifices being performed, abundant with gifts and offerings. Yet, after his time in heaven, when his merit was exhausted, he fell from those celestial realms. Bereft of his former glory, he was overcome by sorrow and pondered deeply. He realized, “The fruits of actions performed here are enjoyed in heaven, but when those fruits are spent, one falls. This is the cause of my downfall.” It became clear to him that those who ascend to heaven remain there only as long as their fame and good name endure on earth; when people cease to speak of them, their heavenly stay ends. If infamy is spoken of after one’s passing, it brings further decline. Thus, it is virtuous conduct alone that ensures lasting honor and prevents downfall on earth. The Lord praised the highest fame, for it brings one to heaven. As long as a person’s fame remains undiminished on earth, they continue to dwell among the gods. In those heavenly realms, there is no sweat, no foul odor, no excrement, nor even urine; the blessed are carried in aerial chariots, adorned with splendid ornaments. Reflecting thus, King Indradyumna, filled with longing for lasting merit, traveled to the place where the great sage Markandeya had performed intense austerities. Approaching the sage, steadfast in his vows, the king respectfully asked, “O knower of dharma, you are aware of the gods, demons, and rakshasas; nothing in this world is unknown to you. Tell me, how does lasting fame arise in the world, and what is the fruit of austerity?” For, as long as fame endures upon the earth, so long does one dwell among the gods.