When a child is born, even the hearts of women, moved by affection and confusion, become restless and agitated. In such times, the greedy cat, intent only on her own gain, watches me closely, ever alert for her opportunity. Yet, in due course, you too desire to enjoy the fruit that comes from me. But know this: the bond between mother and child does not last beyond five or seven days—it is fleeting, like a passing shadow. “O dear child,” you say to me, “but your words are false.” Yet I do not embrace you out of selfish affection or for some hidden benefit. Having thus spoken, she turned away and departed from the birthing chamber. Afterward, she took up that child, who, remarkably, remembered his former birth. Mistaking him to be her own son, she was soon taken by the mighty king. The son of Vikranta was likewise taken away, as was the son of the twice-born Bodha. The third child, the son of Bodha, was devoured by a night-wandering demoness. With the teacher’s permission, the proper salutations were performed. But then a question arose: “Which mother of mine is to be honored—she who gave me birth, or she who raised me?” Was not this noble lady, the daughter of Janaka, your birth mother? Ānanda spoke, saying, “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?” Confused, the child replied, “I know nothing due to bewilderment; my thoughts are lost. Who is whose son, O sage among brāhmaṇas, and who is not related to whom?” Such is the state of worldly existence—it confounds and destroys, and all living beings here are caught within it. On earth, she is the daughter of the wicked, unbearable son of Brahmā. In this very birth, I have obtained two mothers. Therefore, I shall perform austerity; bring Caitra here. Thus, turning away from attachment, he considered the matter accordingly. He who was honored and cared for as a son by the brāhmaṇa was protected. In the west stands the supreme liṅga of the god Indreśvara. As he practiced austerity, the god spoke to him, “You must act according to the sixth Manu; go and do that.” Thus addressed by the Lord of gods, the wise one replied, “So be it.” By worshipping this liṅga, he brought forth sons. Because of this, O goddess, he attained a most difficult accomplishment, and was filled with joy. Those who behold Ānandeśvara, the Lord, O wide-eyed one, for them, the sins accumulated over a hundred million births are destroyed. In that very moment, a man is freed from birth, death, old age, and all suffering. I have declared that the sight of Ānandeśvara grants liberation to people; here, O wide-eyed goddess, the supreme liṅga is worshipped by the gods. O goddess, this power of his, which destroys all sin, has been revealed to you. By merely seeing him, one is freed from all sins. Once, on the beautiful bank of the river Vitastā, there lived a brāhmaṇa. He had been abandoned by his relatives and by his wicked wife as well. Desiring a son, he pleased me through his devotion in a mountain cave. In time, a son was born to him—a remarkable child, who, as soon as he was born, took up his own garment from around his neck.