The sacred region, whose extent reaches to the very confluence with the Gandaki, is renowned for its holiness. Where the revered Bhagirathi joins the Ganga, there is said to be immense spiritual merit. In ancient times, the union of the sacred Gandaki with the Bhagirathi was especially praised by the wise. Thus, O beautiful one, you have now heard the account of Shalagrama. The merit associated with this, so dear to the devotees of Bhagavan and described earlier by the goddess herself, stands above all other merits and is greater than any austerity. Of all gains, this is the highest—there is truly nothing greater. But this supreme merit should not be given to those who are unworthy, nor to those who do not know how to serve and worship properly. Only those who are free from greed, delusion, and pride, and whose minds are virtuous, are fit recipients. Such souls, by their own virtue, uplift not only themselves but also their families—seven generations of the paternal line, seven of the maternal, and seven by marriage. If one seeks the highest attainment, such a person will surely reach my divine abode. This, O great goddess, is what has been revealed to you. Tell me, what else do you wish to know? Thus concludes the one hundred forty-fifth chapter, entitled "The Greatness of the Śālagrāma Field," in the divine scripture, the Śrī Varāha Purāṇa. Now, let us speak of the greatness of Hṛṣīkeśa at Ruru Kṣetra. Having listened to the secret and mighty glory of Śālagrāma, the Earth herself spoke: "O greatly fortunate one, hearing this has freed me from all distress. That which you have called Ruruṣaṇḍa, which has been supremely worshipped by you, that supreme field, O Hṛṣīkeśa, which you have taken as your refuge by that name—" Śrī Varāha replied: In the lineage of Bhṛgu was born a sage who had mastered the Vedas and their branches. He was skilled in the sciences of sacrifice, steadfast in his vows, and generous to guests. His hermitage was surrounded by peaceful herds of deer and abounded in roots, bulbs, and fruits. For more than ten thousand years he lived thus, and then Indra, the king of the gods, began to take notice. The Lord, his senses and mind troubled with anxiety, spoke sweet words: "As I pondered, it is you alone who are the supreme path for me." Hearing Indra’s words, the winds themselves seemed to carry desire. "Whose mind, even if self-controlled, can we not disturb?" they seemed to ask. "With your permission," Indra continued, "speak quickly and be content. For when I saw you, my anxiety vanished at once." The sage, steadfast in his devotion to Hṛṣīkeśa, was living then on the beautiful snowy mountain. Indra, however, grew uneasy. "Surely, desiring to seize my position, you should turn back from this austerity," he thought. Then, prompted by Kāma, the god of desire, they resolved to act. Indra, also called Śakra, summoned the celestial nymph Pramlocā. "Go, auspicious lady," he commanded, "and secure victory on earth over the sage. Enchant him with your graceful and free delights, and bring him under your sway. Do this, and may all be well with you, near Hṛṣīkeśa." Pramlocā entered the delightful grove nearby, thick with many kinds of trees and creepers. The air was filled with the fragrance of blossoming mango clusters and the sweet essence of nectar. The songs of Gandharvas mingled with the cool breezes from the Malaya mountains. By the sage’s power, all cruelty had vanished from the pools and streams of that place. There, the beautiful-hipped Pramlocā entered and began to sing a song of exquisite sweetness. She began a Gandharva melody, and the Gandharvas, highly esteemed by the gods, joined in her enchanting music.