In the sacred month of Kārtik, it is said that great merit is bestowed, especially for those who visit the holy lakes at the end of the month. Yet, O Brahmin, without your presence, we truly cannot remain here in peace. When you, along with the sage, departed from our midst, you entered the revered forest of Puṣkara, filled with devotion. There, the kings and the people of the land, leaving behind only the one whose banner was righteousness, gathered. Among them were the noble kings, including Nābhāga and Ikṣvāku, who went together to bathe at the sacred ford of Puṣkara, a place in the middle shaped like a bow. Amidst these holy waters, one was repeatedly delighted by the many daughters of the fish. Yet, he could not bear the harsh and terrible slander spoken by the people. This ascetic, wandering as he pleased among the maidens, was questioned: “Why do you, though surrounded by water, fear public reproach?” But, blinded by passion, the foolish one could not even recognize fear. Though submerged, he did not rise; instead, he remained, having conquered his senses. At that time, other sages and kings from distant lands also arrived. Citrāṅgadā, whose limbs were beautiful, gazed upon a slender-waisted maiden. When the sacred ford was deserted, Gālava too was beneath the water. The virtuous daughter of Parjanya, born from Ghṛtācī, saw three maidens standing on both banks. She asked, “Who are you, and for what purpose do you remain here in this deserted place?” Among them was Suśreṇi, and Citrāṅgadā, renowned as the daughter of Viśvakarman. In Naimiṣa, the golden-eyed one, famed as the mother of Dharma, spoke: “Suratha, overcome by desire, sought refuge in me alone. Then my father cursed me, and I was separated from the king. Afterward, I went to see Śrīkaṇṭha, and then to the waters of the Godāvarī. Yet, my beloved Suratha, the delight of my heart and my husband, was not found. O beautiful one, I have now told you all that has happened to me. When the fruit of my pilgrimage was fulfilled, I arrived at Puṣkara. While I was enjoying myself in the forest, a mendicant saw me, O friend. By him, I was brought from his hermitage to the earth’s surface, to Mount Meru. There, taking refuge on Meru, I became known as Vedavatī. Suddenly, I ascended the supreme mountain Bandujīva, but together with that very tree, I fell down, distressed. All beings, both stationary and moving, beheld me. The Siddhas and Gandharvas lamented, saying, ‘Alas, how grievous this is for the great-souled one, the daughter of Manu, the heroic performer of a thousand sacrifices.’ Yet, I do not know by whom that tree was cut into a thousand pieces. O beautiful one, today I have been brought here and have seen you. O maiden, look now upon the northern bank of the Puṇkara.” Eager to see and to inquire about this matter, the maiden went. There, those two, in accordance with the truth, revealed their own selves to each other.