Once, O hero, you entered the forest, surrounded by horses, with the intent to hunt wild beasts. Driven by another desire, you struck down a sage who had disguised himself as a deer, hitting him from a distance with your staff. The sage fell to the ground, and, O King, as soon as the Brahmin died, you rejoiced, believing, “Hari has killed this deer,” for you saw only the deer’s form before you. Yet, upon seeing the fallen sage, your senses and mind became disturbed. You returned home, unsettled, and spoke of the incident to another. Days passed, and the fear of having committed Brahminicide weighed heavily upon you. At night, you pondered, “What atonement can I perform to be freed from this sin?” In time, O King, you meditated upon Lord Nārāyaṇa and observed a fast on the pure day of Dvādaśī. On an auspicious day, declaring, “Nārāyaṇa is well-pleased with me,” you gave a cow according to the prescribed rite. Yet, the sage who had died suffered immediately from pain in his belly. Let me tell you the cause: your virtuous wife, named Nārāyaṇī, was the reason the Dvādaśī vow was not fully observed. Because she uttered words with a choking breath, your fate was that for one kalpa you were born in Viṣṇu’s city. I, dwelling in your body, knew all things without end. The terrible affliction of Brahminicide tormented me, so I thought. Then, Viṣṇu’s attendants struck me with clubs and destroyed me; yet from your hair follicles, O King, I remained by my own power, even while you were in heaven. When the day of Brahmā ended and night began, and at the beginning of this creation, you were born in the house of King Sumanas; I, too, was born from your hair as the ruler of Kāśmīra. You performed many sacrifices with abundant gifts, but I could not be overcome by them, as they lacked remembrance of Viṣṇu. Now, by the power of the hymn to the lotus-eyed Lord that you recited, I abandoned my hairs, became one again, and was reborn in the form of a hunter. Having heard the hymn to the Blessed Lord, I, formerly embodied as sin, am now freed; a mind intent on righteousness now abides in me. Hearing these words, the king was filled with great wonder and granted a boon to that hunter. The king said: “Hunter, just as you have reminded me of my past birth, so, by my grace, you shall become a righteous hunter.” Whoever hears this account of the lotus-eyed Lord shall obtain, during a pilgrimage to Puṣkara, the merit of bathing according to the prescribed rite. Thus, having spoken, the king ascended the excellent celestial chariot and, by supreme power, attained union with the bearer of all. The Earth then spoke: “O tiger among sages, having heard that wealth was attained by Raibhya, what did the sage himself do then? This is a great doubt of mine.” The blessed Varāha replied: That tiger among sages, Raibhya, after hearing that wealth was attained, went to the holy Gaya, the ancestral pilgrimage. There, he arrived and satisfied his ancestors with offerings of rice balls, made with devotion. Then, as Raibhya performed extremely intense austerity, most difficult to practice, a great yogi, radiant and seated in a celestial chariot, arrived while Raibhya was engaged in severe penance. In a pure chariot, as fine as dust particles and shining like the sun, there appeared a radiant man of atomic size. He spoke: “Raibhya, O steadfast one, what purpose do you pursue by performing austerity?” Having said this, that man measured the earth from the sky. There, he saw a chariot resembling five chariots, shining like the sun, simultaneously pervading the world of Brahma. Raibhya, filled with wonder, bowed and asked the great yogi: “Who are you? Please tell me.” The man replied: “I am the younger brother of Rudra, the mind-born son of Brahma. My name is Sanatkumara, and I dwell in the world of Janas. I have come near you, O ascetic, out of affection. You are truly blessed, child, enhancer of Brahma’s lineage.” Raibhya spoke: “Salutations to you, best among yogis. Be gracious, show me compassion, O universal form. What is to be done here? Tell me, lion among yogis. How am I blessed, as you have said?” Sanatkumara answered: “You are indeed blessed, foremost among twice-born, because you are devoted to Vedic teachings and please your ancestors with mantras, vows, recitations, and offerings, having come to Gaya, and with rice balls. Listen also: There was a king named Vishala, who resided in the great city Vishala. He was blessed, steadfast, and had no sons. Being the lord of Vishala, he asked the foremost brahmins for a son. Those brahmins, possessing little vitality, replied: ‘Having gone to Gaya and given food in many ways, O king, your son will surely be born, a generous ruler of the whole earth.’ Thus addressed by the brahmins, the king, lord of Vishala, was delighted. He went with effort to that excellent pilgrimage, and in the Magha month, with devotion, performed rites for his ancestors. He gave offerings of rice balls to his ancestors with effort and proper procedure. Seeing men of white, yellow, and black colors, the king asked: ‘What is this, O sirs, that you overlook? Tell me everything, for curiosity has arisen in my mind.’ The white one spoke: ‘I am Sita, your ancestor, O child, by name, conduct, and deed. This one, my ancestor, is red in color, cruel, a slayer of brahmins, and a doer of evil. The one beyond is named Adhishvara, his father, black by conduct and deed. By this black one, many ancient sages were slain in previous births. Both these, my son, having died, entered the hell called Raudra and Avici. Adhishvara, my ancestor, and Krishna, his father, both remained there for a long time. But I, by my own pure deeds, attained the seat of Indra, which is difficult to obtain. By you, who are learned in mantras, through the offering of piṇḍa at Gayā, these two—Bala and the other—have been united, by the power of the piṇḍa offering at the holy place, even though they were dwelling in hell. O subduer of enemies, with the water you have offered there, you have satisfied the ancestors, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers.