There was once a great devotee who, in deep reverence, lay upon the bare earth and recited the sacred Sarasvata hymn with unwavering devotion. In his heart burned a longing for the Lord, Hari, the remover of all sins. Even the mighty Dānava, driven by the same yearning, went forth to seek Hari’s presence. It was these two—their stories intertwined—whom the Lord himself had once spoken of, when he took the form of a boar, O Janardana. The great devotee, O sage, worshipped at the feet of the Lord with steadfast faith. Such is the power of devotion: by singing, hearing, or even touching that which is sacred, humans are freed from the bonds of sin. O sage, you have asked to hear of the four great deliverances, beginning with the liberation of Gajendra, the elephant king. Know that by reciting, hearing, or even remembering these stories, the evil of bad dreams is destroyed. Chief among these is the Sarasvata hymn, holy and a cleanser of sin. Now listen to the tale of the son of the king of mountains, Sumeru, radiant like the sun itself. He rose, breaking through the ocean’s depths, and was attended by hosts of gods and sages, surrounded by Gandharvas, Kinnaras, Yakshas, Siddhas, Charanas, and Nagas. His form was resplendent, shining amidst wolves, wild beasts, and lordly elephants. The mountain was adorned with mango, nipa, kadamba, sandalwood, aloe, and champaka trees, and many other varieties, blossoming all around. Beautiful and renowned, Sumeru had three broad ridges, filled with flocks of living creatures and resounding with the calls of chakoras and peacocks. Its slopes were covered in countless flowers, suffused with many fragrances, and it gleamed like pale clouds, resembling a mass of snow. The third and most excellent summit of Sumeru is the supreme abode of Brahma. This sacred place is beyond the reach of those in the world who have not performed severe austerities or who are bound by sin. Here, the lakes are filled with kāraṇḍava ducks and adorned by royal swans, embellished with golden lotuses and hundred-petaled lilies, and encircled on all sides by clusters of bamboo and reeds. Yet, in this beautiful realm, there dwelled a crocodile, a fierce and cunning enemy of elephants, ever watchful for prey. Dripping with rut and longing for water, this massive beast moved slowly, like a mountain with feet. One day, the elephant king, dark as collyrium and his eyes unsteady from intoxication, wandered into the lotus-filled marsh, moving amidst his herd. Suddenly, as the she-elephants watched and cried out in distress, he was seized by the snares of the water-dwellers, rendered helpless and unable to move. With all his might, the elephant struggled, trumpeting loudly and fiercely, but to no avail. In the utmost danger, he turned his mind to Hari, the Lord, and with his whole being, sought refuge in him. Through countless births, he had practiced devotion to the bearer of Garuḍa’s banner, and now, in his hour of need, he beheld the Lord—bearing conch, discus, and mace, shining like the foam of churned nectar. Desiring deliverance from peril, the elephant began to recite a hymn, his voice filled with humility and longing: “Homage to You, O God, who takes no refuge, who is free from all desire. Homage, again and again, to the One within, the sole, the unmanifest. Homage, again and again, to the immeasurable, the unfathomable, the incomparable. Salutations again and again to the eternal, the ancient, the primeval one. Salutations again and again to Govinda, the very foundation of the universe.” Thus, in his distress, the elephant king offered his heart in devotion, seeking the Lord’s grace and deliverance.