Once, a foolish king, overwhelmed by desire for another man's wife, brought ruin upon himself and his entire realm. In the aftermath, seeking guidance and restoration, this mighty king appointed Bhārgava—Sukra—as his royal priest. Sukra, renowned among the Bhārgavas, had a daughter named Arajā. Honored for a long time by the king, Sukra remained in his service. One day, as Arajā, radiant and graceful, stood nearby, the king arrived. At that moment, venerable Śukra departed to perform a sacrifice for the son of Danu. Those around addressed the king, saying, “O king, the guru’s daughter remains unmarried.” Hearing this, the mighty-armed king entered and saw Arajā, still unwed. In that atmosphere, Andhaka arose—the staff, moved by the force of Death. Andhaka, though alone, was powerful enough to approach even Śukra’s disciples. The Dānava, delighted by his presence, honored him as a brother, saying, “Gladden me now with the water of your embrace.” Arajā replied, “My father, in great wrath, could burn even the gods. You are my sister by dharma, and I am your father’s disciple. Yet today, O slender-waisted one, the fire of desire consumes my body. Ask the guru himself for this; he will surely grant it to you. If the proper moment is missed, an obstacle will arise, O beautiful one. Women are not independent to give themselves away, even if able. Go, by Śukra’s command, with your attendants, kin, and relatives.” Then, a tale was recalled of Citrāṅgadā, from the auspicious age of the gods long ago. Endowed with beauty and youth, like a lotus deprived of its pond, the lotus-eyed Citrāṅgadā went to Nemiṣa to bathe. There, a handsome and lovesick man beheld her slender form. The son of the king was struck by love. Her friends said, “Child, you are not bold, O beautiful one. Your father is righteous and skilled in all the arts.” Meanwhile, King Suratha, steadfast in truth and wise, was captivated by her. “You, innocent one with intoxicating eyes, bewilder me with just your glance. Therefore, you ought to lie with me upon this couch, at my breast.” Then she, whose every limb was lovely and whose eyes resembled lotuses, spoke to the king. Thus, in former times, that king was saved by the woman Tainvi. Arajaska recounted her story to Daṇḍa, telling him what had happened. Likewise, that slender-limbed woman spoke to Suratha, the lord of the earth, saying, “Because, abandoning righteousness, through womanhood and a weak mind, without marriage you will not obtain happiness from a husband.” When the king rejected her, she fell into delusion. Rejected again, she was overcome by confusion. Though she was thoroughly sprinkled with cold water, her friends, realizing she was dead, departed quickly. And she, when all of them had gone, entered the excellent forest.