When the divine voice proclaimed, “I am the granter of boons,” the noble Kuru, foremost among his line, humbly requested a boon. He asked that those who bathe here, and those who have departed from this world, might receive the fruit of great merit. Furthermore, he wished that all acts performed in this sacred place—whether homa, sacrifice, or any other ritual, auspicious or not—would yield imperishable rewards in this most excellent field. Hearing his heartfelt plea, I replied to the king, “So be it,” and assured him, “At the end of your life, steadfast one, you shall attain dissolution in me alone.” In this holy land, priests would perform thousands of sacrifices. There, too, dwell the yakṣa named Candra, the mighty serpent Vāsuki, the noble king Ajāvana, and the great god Pāvaka, who is Fire itself. Their powerful attendants and followers, fierce among all beings, both moving and unmoving, do not permit bathing in these waters. Amidst this sanctity, the sacred river flows eastward, its banks adorned with auspicious matted reeds, drawing multitudes to gather at its side. In the beginning, earth, water, fire, wind, and sky—all these elements shone forth, and the broad waters appeared. Here, by the will of the mighty-armed one, those waters merged with the earth. Go, then, to that great and sacred place as long as its presence is manifest. The holy lunar day remains there, celebrated as imperishable. It is there that you should honor your ancestors with offerings and devotion. Thus, people gathered at Kurukṣetra, at the revered site of Pṛthūdaka. The auspicious lunar day that removes sin has now arrived for you. O teacher, the task of the gods depends upon you; therefore, fulfill it. “If I should become lord of the rains,” came the response, “then I shall go, O gods.” There, Purandara himself, pleased, offered a rice-ball to the ancestors with heartfelt devotion. The ancestors, gratified, spoke tenderly to their own daughter, who became filled with joy and lived as she wished. In time, she gave birth to three daughters of extraordinary beauty, each rivaling the splendor of celestial women. A fourth child was born, a son named Sunābha. Of the daughters, the eldest, born to Menā, was named Rāgiṇī. The next, Kuṭilā, adorned herself in white garlands and garments. The youngest, Kālī, was unmatched in beauty. These auspicious goddesses set out to perform severe austerities, and the gods beheld them. Kuṭilā, radiant as the moon, was taken up to Brahmā’s world. Then, O Brahmin, you must tell of the son destined to slay the buffalo demon. Let this unfortunate one be released, so that she may bear the energy of Śarva. “O Lord, I will strive accordingly, though Śarva’s energy is exceedingly difficult to bear. By severe austerity, I will propitiate Janārdana. Truly, O god, I will do so; I have spoken sincerely.” Then the blessed Brahmā, primeval lord of all, also spoke: “Burned by my curse, you shall become all waters.” Thus impelled, she, composed of water, flooded Brahmā’s world with her mighty current. Yet with the strong bonds of the Ṛk, Sāman, Atharvan, and Yajus Vedas—by the power of sacred words—her force was contained.