When the powerful makara seized him, the brāhmaṇa, in truth Śiva in disguise, transformed himself into the form of an old man before Pārvatī and cried out, “O maiden, I am no longer a brāhmaṇa! Save me quickly, before I come to greater harm—only you can rescue me!” Hearing his plea, Pārvatī pondered deeply. She thought, “Himavat is my father, Śaṅkara is my husband, and I am purified by penance—how can I touch this brāhmaṇa? Yet, if I do not pull him from the water, held fast by the makara, I will surely incur the terrible sin of killing a brāhmaṇa. There is no doubt of this, and for such a sin, there is no expiation. For other transgressions, atonement is possible, but not for this.” Resolving thus, she quickly overcame her hesitation. Though filled with fear, Pārvatī hurried to the water, seized the brāhmaṇa’s hand, and pulled him out. In that very instant, the lord of beings, Hara himself, revealed his true form to her. There stood Lord Rudra, the very deity whom the mountain’s daughter had worshipped and for whom she had undertaken great austerities, now holding her hand. Seeing Śiva before her, Pārvatī became bashful, remembering her earlier vows of renunciation. Her lovely brows lowered in deep embarrassment, and she stood silent, unable to speak. Observing her modesty, Rudra smiled gently, still holding her hand, and said, “O gentle one, how could you abandon me here?” He continued, “If you let this act of taking my hand be in vain, then I shall go to the daughter of Brahma and seek her hand in marriage.” To this, the goddess, supreme and beyond, replied with a shy smile, “Let there be no jest in this matter.” “O God of gods, Lord of the three worlds,” she said, “all my efforts have been for you. In a previous birth, I worshipped you as my husband, O great Lord. Now, O God, you alone shall be my husband, none other. But my father, the lord of mountains, is my master. I will go to him, and with his permission, you may take my hand according to custom.” Having spoken thus, the radiant goddess approached her father Himavat with joined palms and addressed him: “In a previous birth, Rudra, destroyer of Daksha’s sacrifice, was my husband. Now, through austerity, I have meditated upon him as the goal of my heart. He, the lord of the universe, came to my hermitage disguised as a brāhmaṇa, asking for food. When I instructed him to bathe, he went to the Jahnavi. There, assuming the form of an old brāhmaṇa, Śaṅkara was seized by a crocodile and, speaking words unbefitting a brāhmaṇa, called out to me. Out of fear of the sin of brāhmaṇa-killing, father, I took his hand, and as soon as I did, Śaṅkara revealed his true form.” “Then the god spoke to me, who had come for the hand-taking: ‘O goddess, endowed with austerity, do not hesitate in any way.’ Thus addressed by the great-souled Śaṅkara, I have now come to you, O lord of gods, to seek your permission. Whatever is proper, let it be done quickly.” Hearing his daughter’s words, the king of mountains was filled with joy. He said to his blessed daughter, her face radiant with happiness, “Daughter, I am truly blessed, for Rudra himself, Hara, will become my son-in-law. Through you, O goddess, I shall have descendants, and you have raised me above even the gods.” “Wait but a moment until I return,” he said, and set off to see Brahmā, the grandsire of all the gods. Bowing before Brahmā, the king of mountains said, “O gods, this daughter is mine; I wish to give her to Rudra. With your permission, O gods, I do this—grant me your approval.” Pleased in mind, Brahmā replied, “Go and give her to Rudra.” Thus instructed by the Grandfather of the worlds, the king of mountains quickly returned to his abode and summoned the gods, sages, and hosts of siddhas. He called Tumburu, Nārada, Hāhā and Hūhū, and also summoned the Kinnaras, asuras, and even the rākṣasas. Mountains, rivers, rocks, trees, and herbs—all came in embodied form, along with the sacred confluence stones, to witness the marriage of Himavat’s daughter with Śaṅkara. The very earth became the altar, the seven oceans served as sacred pots, the sun shone as the lamp, the moon was present, and the rivers brought water for the rites. With all wedding preparations complete, the lord of the mountains sent Mandara Mountain to invite Rudra. As Mandara announced, Śaṅkara swiftly arrived, and, according to sacred rite, the supreme lord took Pārvatī’s hand, with Soma as the witness. At that joyous festival, Parvata and Nārada sang, the siddhas danced, the trees showered auspicious flowers, and the celestial women danced with great delight. Amidst the flowing waters, the four-faced Brahmā, absorbed in his own state, addressed the maiden: “O daughter, be the foremost woman in the world; let other men have wives through you.” Having thus spoken, the Grandfather returned to his own city, accompanied by Umā and Rudra. The lord of mountains, honoring his son-in-law Soma, respectfully dismissed him. He honored all the gods, asuras, and sages with gifts, ornaments, fine garments, and excellent food, and then bid farewell to the foremost among the mountains. Freed from sorrow, pure and serene, the great-souled King Himavat, having given his auspicious-faced daughter Umā to the best of gods, shone like the Grandfather of the worlds at a sacrifice. Thus, O best of kings, this is your noble lineage, a story unknown even to gods and asuras. The self-born Dakṣa, the lord, and the threefold birth of Gaurī’s marriage have been well recounted. Śrī Varāha said: For this reason, she who is called Gaurī took form, as has been told, when the great sage, his mind purified by austerity, asked the protector of creatures. The origin of Gaurī and her marriage have thus been told to you. All this concerning Gaurī was accomplished on the third lunar day; on that day, one should avoid salt. Whoever, man or woman, observes this fast attains good fortune.