Ever adored by the gods, and constantly venerated by hosts of gandharvas and apsarases, the goddess was worshipped by all. Brāhmaṇas, kṣatriyas, vaiśyas, śūdras, women, and maidens alike—whoever, established in discipline, properly performed her viewing—would be blessed. O illustrious one, you are always capable in all actions. Thus, O goddess, your power, the destroyer of sin, has been described. By your mere sight, the world attains its most cherished desires. In the Nandana forest, O goddess, resplendent with every delight and filled with the songs of parrots, cuckoos, chakoras, and kuraras, Indra—the enemy of Vṛtra—sat, honored by the foremost of the gods. In that sacred grove, an apsaras, distracted by a wandering thought and careless recollection, lost her focus. Angered, the best of the gods pronounced a curse upon her: “Therefore, go to the world of humans, deprived of your radiance.” Shaken by Indra’s wrath, that apsaras fell to earth. Lamenting pitifully, she cried, “What wrong have I committed?” Her companions, the entire host of apsarases, were tormented by the fire of grief for her. Just as a lotus under a cloudy sky loses its luster, so too did her radiance fade. Surrounded by her circle of friends, Rambhā was seen, her face beautiful as the moon, yet dimmed by sorrow. Perplexed, she asked, “Why do the apsarases suddenly appear so overwhelmed by sorrow?” Coming together, they recounted to her that ancient story. With great care, a wise one among them explained a beneficial means: “Worship the Lord of gods, the liṅga that fulfills all desires.” By the words of Urvaśī, Purūravas became her husband. Then, in the beautiful and great Kāla forest, with the desire to worship the liṅga, it was revealed to Rambhā: “O renowned Rambhā, you will obtain good fortune and the heavenly world. Therefore, go to heaven, honored by this assembly; thus the Lord of the apsarases became famous throughout the three worlds.” Those who worship the Lord of the apsarases with devotion, and those who send others into the world, O illustrious one, for the sake of seeing you—what need have they of gifts, austerities, or sacrifices with many offerings? This, O goddess, is your power, the destroyer of all sin, which I have described. By merely seeing you, O goddess, conflict does not arise at all. You bring relief from all suffering and release from all sin. Yet, O goddess, even with you, a quarrel once happened with me. When you, beautiful daughter of the snowy mountain, when the marriage was withdrawn, O lovely-faced one, you sat with me, your hair dark as blue lotuses, curled and shining, your radiance like black antimony. O Kālī, beautiful one, beloved, sit by my side. Clad in serpents, O pure one, embraced by sandalwood trees—you were thus addressed by me, O goddess, O Girijā, with a lovely smile. And when, for my sake, you sent forth those learned in the Vedas, then too, for my sake, you entreated my father.