Once, in the sacred Mahākāla forest, a remarkable event unfolded that drew the attention of all the gods. With utmost respect, the gods approached the best among the gaṇas, seeking answers to a profound question. They recalled how, during his wanderings, he had crossed over a certain place in the forest—a place imbued with great sanctity. At that time, the means by which this act was accomplished had already been explained to the assembled gods. It was revealed that he who stood there was none other than a portion of Īśāna, the lord of gods. The act of crossing the nirmālya—the discarded offerings—was known to bring about a great sin. Yet, once again, all the groups of gods gathered in the Mahākāla forest. There, they beheld a liṅga, radiant and powerful, which had the unique power to destroy all faults. As the gods gazed upon this liṅga, the burden of their sin was lifted; in honor of this miraculous event, they bestowed upon it an auspicious name. This account was passed down to us by the wise Nāgacaṇḍa. After uttering his name, the gods, now freed from the sin of stepping over the sacred remnants, returned to their supreme heavenly abode. From that moment, the transgression that arose from crossing the discarded offerings was destroyed for them. Moreover, it is said that those who behold the god Candeśvara of the serpents day after day are blessed with delight, contentment, well-being, health, and beauty. Such devotees attain pleasures that even the gods themselves find difficult to obtain. Thus, O goddess, I have revealed to you this wondrous, sin-destroying power. Simply by seeing him, one becomes prosperous in this world. O goddess, remember how, in times past, you abandoned your life because of Dakṣa’s wrath. Overcome by love and afflicted by the arrows of Kāma, I sought union with you. Witnessing this intense passion, the gods themselves became disturbed in mind. For a full hundred divine years, Rudra and Gaurī enjoyed their union. The gods grew anxious, for they knew that if the seed of these two were to unite, the son born from such a union would possess energy too great for even the gods to bear. Concerned, the foremost guru of the gods devised a plan: all the gods should approach Śiva. Resolving to do so, the gods hastened to my abode. But Nandī, the vigilant lord of the gaṇas, stood guard at the door, making it difficult for anyone to approach me. At this moment, Agni spoke auspicious words on behalf of the gods and, by deceiving the doorkeeper, managed to act as needed. The immortal gods, led by Indra, waited respectfully at the threshold. When they were finally admitted, they offered their salutations in due order and implored me, saying, “Abandon this exceedingly dreadful enjoyment.” Angered, I cursed Nandi, commanding him to descend swiftly to the earthly realm. With a heavy heart, sighing deeply, and his eyes filled with sorrow, Nandi realized he had been deceived, especially by Agni and Vāsava. In this dejected state, Nandi was seen by the guardians of the world. He recounted all that had transpired before them. Upon hearing his account, Nandi, his hair bristling with emotion, worshipped in the proper manner, taking on the form of a Kapālika in his devotion. Then, beloved, a bodiless voice arose from the liṅga itself. Nandi, the doorkeeper, worshipped this manifestation with great devotion. From that moment onward, the lord of the doorkeepers was elevated to the rank of lord of lords, his power now granting the most desired fruits to all the worlds. Those who worship Śiva, the lord of the doorkeepers, with true devotion, find that even the sins accumulated over seven births, whether small or great, are destroyed.