Whoever remembers in their heart the lord of the doorkeepers, Śiva, is blessed indeed. Merely seeing this lord, one is protected—even from being born among animals. Now, listen to a story the Lord told, O Pārvatī. There once was a king named Kauśika. Because of the fruits of his actions, he was always reborn as a rooster. In his time as a human king, Kauśika’s power was vast: he ruled the earth, its mountains, forests, and groves. His queen, renowned as Viśālā, was his constant companion. Together, they ruled their kingdom. Yet, O Pārvatī, there was never any intimacy between them. As time passed, the queen became tormented by desire. One day, she and the king saw a pair of insects, agitated by the quarrels of love. The male insect, again and again, tried to please his beloved, saying, “Embrace me as you wish, for I am afflicted by the arrows of love. Nowhere in the world is there a passionate woman equal to you. Why, when I am wretched, do you, who speak kindly, seem angry with me?” But the female insect, provoked, replied, “Why do you speak to me in vain? Given over to another by your lust, you wretched insect! I will not act so.” Still, the male pleaded again and again, until at last she became appeased. Witnessing this wonder, Queen Viśālā lamented, “I am not desired by my beloved; I will die, there is no doubt.” She sighed and grieved in many ways. In her sorrow, she came upon a sage, seated in meditation, born of austerity and steadfast in his vows. “O Brāhmaṇa,” she asked, “there is one doubt in my heart: I do not know the reason, but union with my husband does not arise. He who once conquered the realm of women and defeated all in battle now has no desire for them. O virtuous one, what is this? Horses, elephants, endless wealth and grain—by what result of karma is my youth as firm as this? It is seen during the day, but at night it is not seen. O Brahmin, please tell me how to avoid evil deeds.” The sage replied, “Listen, my daughter, to what happened long ago, out of childishness. Your husband is certainly the son of Viduratha. In his youth, he ate many chickens. Years passed as he continued this, and when asked why the chickens no longer came, there was no answer. Then it was revealed: all the chickens had been devoured by the king without reason. Tāmracūḍa, enraged by this, pronounced a curse upon the evil-minded prince. From that time, your husband grew weaker day by day.” “Driven by some desire, he went to the hermitage of Vāmadeva, bowed repeatedly, and questioned the sage: ‘O Lord, by what sin is my body wasting away day and night?’ Vāmadeva replied, ‘You have eaten chickens. Go to Tāmracūḍa for refuge; he will tell you the means.’” “So, your husband approached Tāmracūḍa with joined palms and great devotion, saying, ‘O Lord, the chickens were eaten out of ignorance, only for nourishment.’ Tāmracūḍa replied, ‘Since you request, O king... The king, wielder of the rod, is ruler, teacher, and protector of the worlds. Therefore, my daughter, he is not seen, having taken on an animal form.’” Thus, O Pārvatī, the story reveals how the king’s actions led to his fate, and why he was not as he once was.