In the sacred city, radiant with the brilliance of diamonds, sapphires, beryl, and moonstones, the atmosphere was suffused with a celestial glow. Here, the great deities themselves—Indra, Agni, Yama, Varuna, Vayu, Soma, and Ishana—gathered in reverence. Such was the allure of this city that even the ever-joyful gods longed for its presence. The directions themselves were illuminated by the radiance of those who practiced restraint, shining with the brilliance of the sun and fire. Within this city, virtuous Brahmins devoted themselves to Shiva, while noble Kshatriyas pursued the path of Vishnu. The presiding deity was of a shining form, sometimes appearing red, sometimes yellow, sometimes adorned with other hues. At times, his radiance equaled a thousand suns; at others, he shone with the brilliance of a single sun. Here, birth, death, old age, disease, and countless other sufferings found their end. “O Devi,” it was proclaimed, “this power of his, the destroyer of sin, has been revealed to you.” Thus concluded the thirty-second chapter, named ‘The Greatness of Pattaneshvara,’ in the section on the eighty-four Lingas, within the Avanti Khanda of the Skanda Mahapurana. Know, then, that this account is sin-destroying, meritorious, and ever bestowing prosperity. Long ago, in the Rāthantara Kalpa, there lived a lord of the earth—a king who was righteous, noble-hearted, and endowed with great valor. He was impartial to enemy, son, and friend alike, and understood well the duties of others. His wife was exceedingly dear to him, more precious even than life itself. As soon as their son was born, she cradled him lovingly in her lap. The child, blessed with the memory of his previous births, remained in his mother’s embrace. Yet, his mother grew anxious. “What is this, my child? Why do you smile so?” she asked. The child replied, “Mother, everyone pursues their own interest. This one, having become invisible, is the second to steal a newborn. Out of love for your son, you too now seek your own advantage. When a child is born, even women, out of affection and confusion, become agitated. The greedy cat, intent on her own gain, watches me closely. But you, in due course, desire to enjoy the fruit that comes from me. The bond with children does not last beyond five or seven days.” His mother protested, “O dear child, your words are false. I do not embrace you out of affection for some benefit.” Having spoken thus, she left him and departed from the birthing chamber. Later, she took the child—who remembered his previous birth—into her care, believing him to be her own son, and the mighty king accepted him as his heir. The son of Vikranta was taken away, as was the son of the twice-born Bodha. The night-wandering demoness devoured the third, the son of Bodha. With the teacher’s permission, salutations were performed. The question arose: which mother should be honored—the one who gave birth, or the one who raised him? “Is not this noble lady, daughter of Janaka, your birth mother?” someone asked. Ānanda replied, “She is the mother who gave birth in the month of Caitra, and this is Caitra, in the house of a twice-born.” The teacher then asked, “Who are you, and who is this Caitra of whom you speak?” Ānanda confessed, “I know nothing due to confusion; my thoughts are bewildered. Who is whose son, O sage among brāhmaṇas, and who is not related to whom?” Thus, it was understood that the state of worldly existence destroys, and worldly existence is for living beings here. On earth, she is the daughter of the wicked, unbearable son of Brahmā. Such is the tale, woven with the mysteries of birth and identity, the greatness of Pattaneshvara, and the eternal questions of lineage and love.