There was once a sage named Gālava, who earnestly sought to behold Śrīkaṇṭha, the unmanifest Lord. In preparation for this sacred pursuit, Gālava, pure of heart, bathed in the clear, holy waters of the Kālindī river before entering the place of his devotion. As he did so, the air was filled with the melodious singing of the daughters of the Yakṣas and Asuras, whose sweet voices revealed them to be Gandharva maidens—there could be no doubt about their celestial nature. After completing his recitations, Gālava sat in deep meditation, honored and attended by two of these radiant maidens. With unwavering devotion, he adorned and uplifted the lineage of Bhava, the great Lord. Gālava, renowned among ascetics, was born into this world fully aware of his purpose and circumstances. Each morning, he rose early to worship with due reverence the Lord of Gaurī. One day, he addressed the maidens with respect, inviting them and seeking their permission for a journey. The maidens, in turn, inquired about his intention: “For what purpose, O reverend one, do you wish to go to the Puṣkara forest?” Gālava explained that the sacred month of Kārtik brings great merit, especially when observed at its end by the holy lakes. Yet the maidens confessed, “O Brahmin, without your presence, we truly cannot remain here.” So, together with the sage, the maidens entered the Puṣkara forest with deep reverence. At that time, kings and people of the land, leaving behind only the righteous-bannered one, gathered. Among them were the noble kings, associated with Nābhāga and Ikṣvāku, who came to bathe at the sacred ford of Puṣkara, which lay in the middle of the lake and was shaped like a bow. Gālava, meanwhile, found himself again and again delighted by the company of many daughters of the fish. Yet, despite his joy, he could not endure the fierce and terrible slander whispered among the people. Ascetic by nature, he wandered as he pleased with the maidens. Some questioned, “Why do you, who are in the midst of the waters, fear public reproach?” But blinded by passion, the foolish do not even recognize fear. Despite being submerged in the waters, Gālava did not rise; he remained below, having conquered his senses. At that time, sages and kings from various lands also gathered at the sacred site. Among them was Citrāṅgadā, of beautiful limbs, who gazed at a slender-waisted maiden. When the sacred ford was deserted, Gālava, too, remained beneath the water. It was then that the virtuous daughter of Parjanya, herself born of Ghṛtācī, beheld three maidens standing on both banks of the river. She called out, “Who are you, and what purpose brings you here to this deserted place?” Among them was Suśreṇi, and Citrāṅgadā, renowned as the daughter of Viśvakarman. In Naimiṣa, the golden-eyed one was famed as the mother of Dharma. Suratha, overcome by desire, had once sought refuge in her alone. But she had been cursed by her father and separated from her beloved king. After that, she journeyed to seek Śrīkaṇṭha and then to the sacred waters of the Godāvarī. Yet, her husband Suratha, the delight of her heart, was nowhere to be found. She continued, “O beautiful one, I have truly told you all that has happened to me. When the fruit of my pilgrimage was fulfilled, I arrived at Puṣkara. While enjoying myself in the forest, I was seen, O friend, by a wandering mendicant. It was he who brought me from his hermitage to the earth’s surface, to Mount Meru. There, taking refuge, I became known as Vedavatī. And suddenly, I ascended the supreme mountain Bandujīva.” Thus, the story weaves together the journeys and trials of Gālava and the celestial maidens, their devotions, their separations, and their transformations, all under the watchful gaze of the divine.