Sage Satsya’s life was filled with joy, for his sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons surrounded him constantly. They wandered behind him, before him, at his sides, even above his wings, tail, and head—wherever he went, his family was always at play, delighting in his presence day and night. As Satsya’s happiness grew from the loving touch of his offspring, the sage who observed him, Saubhari, found himself ever more pleased, enjoying the company of Satsya’s sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons, their affection deepening with each passing day. Saubhari, who dwelled in the waters absorbed in deep meditation, gradually abandoned his samadhi. Each day, as he witnessed Satsya’s supreme happiness with his family, a longing stirred within him. “How fortunate is this man,” Saubhari reflected, “who, though he did not desire another birth, now enjoys himself with his sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons, awakening in me a similar yearning.” Moved by this desire to experience such familial joy, Saubhari resolved, “We too shall delight in playful enjoyment with sons and others.” With this wish in his heart, he emerged from the water, intent on establishing a family of his own, and went to King Māndhātā to seek a bride. When the king heard of the sage’s arrival, he rose at once and honored him with the proper offerings. After seating Saubhari respectfully, the sage spoke: “O king, I wish to establish a household—grant me a daughter. Do not send me away empty-handed, for the lineage of Kakutstha is renowned for never refusing those who come seeking. Many kings have daughters, Māndhātā, but your family’s vow to give to those who ask is celebrated everywhere. This tradition is truly praiseworthy. You have a hundred and fifty daughters, O king; give me one. I fear the pain of rejection and am anxious about the distress that a refusal from a king might bring.” Hearing these words, the king looked upon the sage’s aged and decrepit form and was filled with anxiety. He feared both the pain of refusal and the possibility of a curse, and so he lowered his face, pondering the matter at length. Sensing the king’s distress, Saubhari said, “O king, why do you fall into such unbearable anxiety? I have said nothing unreasonable. If any daughter is to be given, let her fulfill my wish; if not, why should I not obtain her?” With humility and concern for the sage’s power, the king replied, “O revered one, this is the custom of our family: whichever daughter desires a worthy suitor, she is given to him. Your request is beyond our wishes; I do not know how this situation has arisen or what I should do.” The king’s words gave Saubhari pause, and he considered another way to avoid rejection. “Being old and unattractive, how will the maidens choose me?” he thought. Resolving to act accordingly, he addressed Māndhātā: “If so, then let me be admitted to the women’s quarters. If any maiden desires me, I will take her as my wife; otherwise, let this matter end, and let us not pursue what is past its time.” Fearing the sage’s curse, Māndhātā instructed the attendant of the women’s quarters to admit Saubhari. Entering, the sage transformed himself, making his appearance exceedingly beautiful, surpassing even the charm of the Gandharvas. The attendant brought him before the king’s daughters and addressed them, “The great king, your father, commands thus: This brahmin sage has come seeking a bride. I have promised him that whichever of you chooses the venerable one, her choice will not be opposed.” Upon hearing this, all the daughters were filled with affection and excitement. Like female elephants drawn to the leader of their herd, each eagerly sought to choose the sage and spoke out, “Enough, sister, I choose him, I choose him! He is not suited for you. He is my husband, created by destiny, and I am created for him. Go and find peace.” Another cried, “I have chosen him first! Why do you hinder me as he enters my home? Because of me, because of me!” Thus, a great quarrel arose among the king’s daughters, each desiring the sage. When Saubhari, of flawless reputation, was chosen with such affection by the maidens, he respectfully informed the king. Māndhātā, astonished and uncertain how to respond, reluctantly gave his consent, distressed yet unable to refuse. The great sage married all the daughters appropriately, and led them to his hermitage. There, Saubhari summoned another Viśvakarman, the originator of all arts and crafts, and commanded, “Let splendid palaces be built for each daughter, furnished with soft bedding, delightful lotus ponds with singing swans, cranes, and other birds, pleasant surroundings, and every fine amenity.” Tvaṣṭā, the master of special arts, fulfilled his command, and by Saubhari’s will, an inexhaustible treasure of joy was established in those houses. From then on, the king’s daughters and their attendants were served day and night in those splendid palaces, with a constant supply of food, delicacies, sweets, and every enjoyment. One day, King Māndhātā, his heart drawn by affection for his daughters, wondered whether they were happy or distressed. He visited Saubhari’s hermitage and beheld a radiant row of crystal palaces adorned with shining garlands, delightful gardens, and blooming lotus ponds. Entering one palace, the king embraced his daughter and, with eyes brimming with tears of affection, asked, “My dear, are you happy here, or is there any discomfort? Is the sage affectionate? Do you miss living in our house?” She replied, “Father, this palace is very charming, the gardens are delightful, the birds sing sweetly, the lotus ponds are blooming, the food, delicacies, ointments, garments, ornaments, and all comforts are pleasing, and the beds and seats are soft. My household life is complete in every way. Still, who does not remember their birthplace? All this splendor is due to your favor. Yet, there is one cause of sorrow: this great sage, my husband, does not leave our house out of special affection only for me, while he does visit my sisters.” Hearing her speak of her co-wife’s distress, the king went to a second palace, embraced his daughter there, and questioned her in the same way. She too described the pleasures and comforts she enjoyed, saying, “Out of special affection only for me, he stays near me and not with the other wives, my sisters.” In this manner, the king visited each palace, and each daughter told him the same story. Filled with wonder and satisfaction, the king finally approached the venerable Saubhari, who was alone. After offering his respects, the king prepared to speak.