After a thousand years in the realm of the gods, Hara—Lord Shiva—approached Viranchi, the creator Brahma, and spoke to him. The atmosphere was charged, for mighty arrows had assailed Hara, striking him and causing tumult in all ten directions of the world. In the wake of this conflict, Hara declared that Brahma’s champion would act in defeat, just as his own great-souled champion would do so. Then, in the heat of battle, the god who is the very source of dharma hurled man against man, setting the stage for a cosmic struggle. Brahma, overwhelmed by distress, found his senses agitated with worry. Into this troubled scene appeared a dreadful figure: Brahma-hatya, the personification of the sin incurred by killing a Brahmin. Her hair was soaked with blood and she approached Hara in wrath. Shiva, seeing her arrival, questioned her: “Who are you, come here in anger? For what reason have you arrived? Tell me.” She answered, “I am Brahma-hatya, come to you. Accept me, O Three-eyed One.” Rudra, holding his trident, stood afflicted by her presence. As Brahma-hatya approached, Shiva saw the sages Nara and Narayana nearby. Seeking purification, Brahma-hatya went to the Yamunā river to bathe, but its waters had dried up. She then tried to bathe in the Plakṣajā river, but as she entered, it too vanished. Undeterred, she went to the Saindhava forest and bathed there as she wished. Yet, even after bathing, the fierce sin of Brahmin-murder did not leave her. Jaladadhvaja, endowed with self-control and yoga, also could not attain liberation from this sin. Upon arriving at a sacred place, he saw the wielder of the discus, the lord whose banner bears the eagle—Vishnu himself. With folded hands, Hara began to recite a hymn in reverence. “O Vāsudeva, wielder of conch, discus, and mace, I bow to you. Salutations to you, O infinite, qualityless, unfathomable creator, supportless in both knowledge and ignorance, yet the support of all. By you, O Lord, this entire world of moving and unmoving beings has been created. Protector of creatures, mighty-armed Janārdana, I bow to you. Lord of gods, endowed with virtues, all-pervading one, I bow to you. You are the wind, intellect, mind, and night; I bow to you. You are forgiveness, generosity, compassion, fortune, and self-restraint, O Lord. You are the upavedas; you are everything. I bow to you. In this world, you are regarded by me as compassionate; save me, Keśava, from the bondage of sin. I am burned, I am lost, I have acted without reflection; purify me, for you are the holy ford. Salutations, salutations to you.” The Blessed Lord Vishnu then spoke words that removed the sin of Brahmin-murder, bestowing auspiciousness, increasing virtue, and erasing the stain of killing a Brahmin. He established himself eternally at Prayāga, renowned as Yogaśāyin. There, Varuṇā is famed as the remover of all sins, auspicious and pure. Both these rivers, the greatest among streams, became honored throughout the world. There is nothing like them in the sky, on earth, or in the netherworld. Even those who indulge in worldly pleasures, O Lord, attain dissolution at this sacred place. Hearing of its pure musical quality, the teachers laughed again and again. The moon wandered in wonder, searching for the pond-lotus that had departed. Even by day, the sun is veiled by long, splendid banners fluttering in the wind. Bees, embracing the spotless faces of women, do not wander to other flowers. Where women gather for play, there is no union in the long-abiding houses. Nor does the passion of young girls exert its force, for intercourse is indeed forsaken. Thus, the tale unfolds, revealing the profound interplay of sin, purification, and the sanctity of Prayāga, where the divine presence and the rivers themselves offer liberation and purity to all.