Because of the influence of Uśanā, all the hosts of Daityas and Dānavas—including mighty Jambha and Kumbha—made a tremendous effort, gathering their strength for a great conflict. On the other side, Indra, with all the armies of the gods, became an ally to Bṛhaspati. Thus, between these two mighty factions, a fierce battle erupted, its cause rooted in Tārā, and it came to be known throughout the worlds as the war for Tārā. As the battle raged, the gods, with Rudra at their head, unleashed their weapons upon the demons, while the demons in turn hurled their arms against the gods. The tumult of combat agitated the hearts of both gods and demons, and the very fabric of the world was shaken. In their distress, all sought refuge in Brahmā. The blessed lotus-born Lord Brahmā, seeing the turmoil, acted to pacify Śaṃkara, the demons, and the gods alike. He brought peace and caused Tārā to be restored to Bṛhaspati. But when Bṛhaspati saw that Tārā was pregnant, he addressed her, saying, “This child has not been conceived within my domain; he belongs to another. Cast him away—do not keep him out of reckless boldness.” Hearing these words, Tārā, ever faithful to her husband, immediately expelled the fetus, and it fell upon a reed stalk. No sooner was the child born than he shone with extraordinary brilliance, absorbing the very radiance of the gods. Bṛhaspati and Soma beheld the boy’s remarkable beauty and both longed to claim him as their own. The gods, filled with doubt, questioned Tārā, “Tell us truly, O fortunate one: is this child the son of Soma or of Bṛhaspati?” Embarrassed by their questioning, Tārā remained silent, even as the gods pressed her again and again. The boy himself, about to curse her, spoke in anger: “Why, wicked woman, do you not tell me who my father is? Today, for your unjust shame, I will punish you, so that you will never again remain silent in this way.” At that moment, the blessed Pitāmaha Brahmā restrained the boy and himself asked Tārā, “Tell me, child, whose son is this—Soma’s or Bṛhaspati’s?” Ashamed, Tārā finally replied, “He is Soma’s.” Hearing this, Soma, the Moon Lord, his cheeks shining and his breath quickened with joy, embraced the boy, saying, “Well done, well done, child, you are wise.” He named him Budha. In due course, Budha begot a son named Pururavas upon Ilā. Pururavas grew to be exceedingly generous, a great sacrificer, resplendent with brilliance, truthful, intelligent, handsome, and thoughtful. Because of a curse from Mitra and Varuṇa, the celestial nymph Urvashi resolved, “I must dwell among humans,” and thus she beheld Pururavas. The moment Urvashi saw him, she abandoned all pride and desire for heavenly pleasures. Her heart wholly absorbed in him, she approached Pururavas. He, too, was enraptured by her beauty, her delicacy, her charm, her playfulness, her laughter, and all her other wondrous qualities—none on earth could compare to her. Both became utterly absorbed in one another, forgetting all else. Emboldened, the king spoke to her, “O beautiful-browed one, I desire you; be gracious, for I bear affection for you.” Overcome by love, Urvashi replied, “So be it, if you will uphold my conditions.” The king asked her to state her terms. She said, “Near my bed, my two lambs, who are like sons to me, must not be taken away. You must not see me naked. My only food must be clarified butter.” The king agreed to all her conditions. Thus, Pururavas and Urvashi spent sixty years together, their joy ever increasing, delighting in the forests of Alaka, Chaitraratha, and in the pure lotus groves and charming lakes like Manasa. So deep was Urvashi’s attachment to Pururavas that, even while dwelling among mortals, she felt no longing for the world of the immortals. Without Urvashi, even the world of the gods became less delightful for the apsaras, siddhas, and gandharvas. Then, one night, Urvashi, forgetting her agreement with Pururavas, conspired with Vishvavasu and the gandharvas to take away one of her beloved lambs from beside her bed. As the lamb was being led away, Urvashi heard its cry in the night. Distressed, she exclaimed, “My son, who is helpless, is being taken by someone; to whom shall I go for refuge?