There, in that sacred place, those souls attained death, completely free from all attachments. Having abandoned every bond, they became true devotees of mine. In this state, they journeyed onward and reached Śvetadvīpa, the radiant realm—know this, O Earth. I am pleased, O blessed one, with the greatly radiant Sun, who, after performing the supremely difficult and meritorious act of the Boar incarnation, shines forth in glory. Thus concludes the one hundred thirty-seventh chapter, entitled ‘The Granting of the Sun’s Boon and the Story of the Vulture and the Jackal,’ from the holy Varāha Purāṇa, in the section on the greatness of holy places, within the discourse of the Boar. Now begins the tale of the Khañjarīṭa bird. At that time, in the beautiful Saukarava region, this most sacred story was heard. The lotus-eyed lady, foremost among those who know all dharma, was filled with wonder and again questioned that divine Lord: “Without desire, at the time of death, what is attained? What merit arises from dancing, or from remaining awake in vigil? What is gained by sweeping, smearing, or offering fragrance and flowers, or by any other act—recitation, sacrifice, and the like? As I listen, a great and supreme curiosity has arisen in my heart.” The Lord spoke sweetly to Earth, who yearned for righteousness: “Listen, beautiful one, to the truth of your questions. I shall tell you everything—all meritorious deeds that bring happiness. There once was a wagtail bird who, after consuming many things, was greatly afflicted by indigestion, O Earth. At that place, some children arrived, and while playing, they found the dead bird. Each child cried, ‘This is mine! This is mine!’ and they struggled to seize it from one another. Then, one of them took the bird and threw it into the waters of the Ganga. Thus, the wagtail was carried away by the sacred river’s flow. In the next birth, that soul was born into the house of a merchant who had performed many sacrifices. He grew wise, pure, and deeply devoted to me, O Earth. One day, seeing his parents seated, the virtuous boy approached them. With his head bowed to the ground and his palms joined, he made a request: ‘I wish to live without restraint from either my father or mother.’ Hearing their son’s words, his parents were filled with joy. They replied, ‘Whatever you say, dear child, whatever is in your heart—we will support you. There are thirty thousand cows here, all yielding auspicious milk. For your sake, my son, I will tell you something else: do as is proper and let wealth be given to friends. There are beautiful maidens of good family and of your own caste. If you wish, dear son, to perform more sacrifices, you may do so. There are eight hundred ploughs, each with a pair of oxen. As long as you wish to satisfy the twice-born with food, you may fulfill their hunger.’ Hearing the words of his father and mother, the righteous boy replied, ‘I have no concern with giving cows, nor do I worry about friends. I do not desire trade, nor agriculture, nor tending cattle. There is only one supreme thought for me: my wish is to pursue austerity.’ When his parents, both steadfast in their duties, heard the words of their son, they listened with reverence and understanding.