Once, the great sage Kaṇḍu, feeling a sudden urgency, rose from his hermitage and prepared to leave. As he stepped out, the auspicious lady Pramlocā, who was there, asked him gently, “Where are you going?” Addressing her, the sage replied, “O auspicious one, the day has turned; I must perform the evening worship, or else my sacred rites will be neglected.” Hearing this, Pramlocā smiled sweetly and said, “O knower of all dharma, has your day truly turned already today?” She continued, “O best of Brahmins, for many years your day has turned like this; this is not surprising—let it be told whose wonder it is.” Kaṇḍu answered her, “You came here in the morning, O slender-waisted one, to this auspicious riverbank. I saw you, and you entered my hermitage. And now, evening twilight has come and the day has passed. If your intention is sincere, tell me—what is the reason for this jest?” Pramlocā replied, “O Brahmin, it is true—I came at dawn, not at any other time. But for you, many hundreds of years have passed since then.” Soma, the narrator, continued: At this, the sage, filled with fear, asked the lotus-eyed Pramlocā, “Tell me, gentle one, how much time has passed while I was with you?” Pramlocā answered truthfully, “Seven hundred and nine years have passed for you, and six months, and three more days have also elapsed.” The sage, astonished, asked her, “Speak the truth, gentle one—is this a jest, or is it so, O auspicious lady? I thought I had spent only one day here with you.” She replied, “How could I speak falsehood before you, O Brahmin? Especially when you, who follow the path of inquiry, have asked me today.” Hearing these truthful words, the sage, O scion of kings, reproached himself again and again, lamenting, “Shame on me! My austerities are lost, the wealth of the knowers of Brahman is destroyed; discernment is ruined by someone, created for the delusion of women. Brahman, which transcends the six waves, is to be known by self-mastery; but my mind has been carried away by this great, all-consuming desire. All my vows and acts leading to Vedic knowledge have been swept away by association, along the path that leads to the multitude of hells.” Thus, blaming himself in this way, the knower of dharma spoke to the apsaras who sat before him: “Go, sinner, wherever you wish; what needed to be done by you has been done—by disturbing my mind with your gestures, as commanded by the king of the gods. I will not reduce you to ashes with the fierce fire of my anger, for I have shared seven steps of friendship with you, as is the way of the virtuous. But what fault is yours, or why should I be angry with you? The fault is entirely mine, for I have not mastered my senses. For the sake of pleasing Indra, you caused the loss of my austerities; you, who are to be censured, have fallen into great delusion, and are truly to be despised.” Soma continued: As the sage spoke harshly, Pramlocā began to sweat and trembled violently. Seeing her trembling and her limbs weary, yet remaining chaste, the best of sages angrily said, “Go, go!” Thus rebuked, Pramlocā departed from the hermitage; as she ascended into the sky, she wiped away her sweat with the leaves of trees. As she wiped her limbs, drenched with sweat, she used the tender red leaves of a tree. At that moment, the embryo placed in her body by the sage emerged, taking the form of goosebumps and sweat. The trees received that embryo, and the wind shaped it into one; nourished by me with cow’s milk, it gradually grew. Born from the tip of a tree, she of beautiful face was named Māriṣā. The trees will give her to you—let your anger subside. Thus she became the child of Kaṇḍu, and also emerged from the trees; she is my child, and also the daughter of the wind and Pramlocā. When his austerity was exhausted, the venerable Kaṇḍu, O Maitreya, went to the abode of Viṣṇu called Puruṣottama. There, with one-pointed mind, he worshipped Hari, reciting the supreme Brahman hymn with focused mind, standing with arms raised, that great yogi remained, O delight of kings. The Pracetas then said, “O sage, we wish to hear the supreme hymn to Brahman by which Kaṇḍu worshipped Keśava.” Soma replied: “Viṣṇu is the supreme, the limitless, the highest of the high, beyond all others, the form of the destroyer of evil; he is the goal of Brahman, the highest of the high, the supreme even among the supreme, and the ultimate beyond all. He is the cause, the cause of causes, and the reason even for that; in all effects, he descends here together with all forms of agents and actions. He is Brahman, the Lord, he is all beings, he is the imperishable master of creatures; he is Viṣṇu, eternal, unborn, unchanging, untouched by any defect. As he is Brahman, imperishable, unborn, and eternal, the Supreme Person, so may faults such as passion depart and be calmed within me.” Soma said: By reciting this supreme hymn called the Supreme Brahman, Kaṇḍu attained the highest perfection, having worshipped Keśava. This Māriṣā was formerly as I have described; thus I tell you about her. The importance of her story is such that its telling will bear fruit for you. Previously, she was childless, and after her husband died, O noble ones, this fortunate wife of Bhīpa devotedly pleased Viṣṇu. Viṣṇu, worshipped by her, appeared before her and said, “Choose a boon, O auspicious one.” She then spoke her heartfelt wish: “O Lord, because of my early widowhood, I have been born in vain, unfortunate, fruitless, and without purpose, O Master of the world.