At the request of the sage, the slender-waisted Vidyadhara woman, her large eyes shining with respect, humbly offered him a garland, bowing low as she did so. The sage accepted the garland and, placing it upon his own head, began to wander the earth. His appearance was wild, almost as if he were mad, and thus did he travel, O Maitreya. As he wandered, the sage came upon the lord of the three worlds—Indra, the husband of Shachi—who was approaching, surrounded by the gods. Indra rode upon his mighty elephant, Airavata, and seemed intoxicated by his own splendor. In his guise as a madman, the sage took the garland from his head and offered it to Indra, the king of the immortals. Indra accepted the garland from the sage and, rather than honoring it, placed it upon Airavata’s head. There it gleamed, radiant as the Ganges upon the peak of Mount Kailāsa. But Airavata, overcome by the scent and blinded by intoxication, seized the garland in his trunk, sniffed it, and threw it down to the earth. Witnessing this, the venerable sage Durvāsas was seized by anger at Indra. Enraged, he spoke these words: “O Indra, intoxicated by your power and swollen with pride, you have not honored the garland I gave you—a symbol of fortune. You did not offer thanks, nor did you bow before me. Your cheeks were puffed with delight, and you did not even place the garland upon your own head. Because you do not value this garland, O fool, the fortune of the three worlds will depart from you. You, Indra, regard me as no greater than other Brahmins, and out of pride, you have shown me disrespect. Because you have cast my gift to the ground, the three worlds will lose their prosperity under your rule. You, king of the gods, have slighted me out of excessive pride, though all beings—moving and unmoving—fear the wrath of one such as I.” Hearing these terrible words, Indra quickly dismounted from Airavata and tried to appease the sinless sage Durvāsas. With deep reverence, Indra sought forgiveness, but the noble sage replied sternly: “I am neither compassionate nor gentle, nor does forgiveness dwell in me. Know me, Indra, to be Durvāsas—unlike other sages. You have grown vain because of Gautama and others; know me to be the very embodiment of impatience. Because you have become arrogant from the praises of Vasiṣṭha and other gentle sages, you now also disrespect me. In the three worlds, who, seeing my face with blazing matted locks and furrowed brows, has not been seized by fear? I will not forgive you—why speak further, Indra? Your words of supplication will not appease me.” Having spoken thus, the sage departed, and Indra, mounting Airavata, returned to Amarāvatī. From that moment onward, O Maitreya, the prosperity of the three worlds faded. Herbs and plants withered, and abundance vanished. Sacrifices ceased, ascetics abandoned their austerities, and people no longer pursued charity or righteousness. Everywhere, vitality ebbed away; greed and desire overwhelmed the senses of all beings, and even the smallest things became objects of selfish craving. Where there is vitality, there is prosperity, and prosperity follows vitality. Without prosperity, how can there be vitality? And without vitality, how can virtues exist? Deprived of strength and heroism, men became contemptible; one lacking these qualities is scorned by all. Minds became ruined, disgrace and infamy spread, and the three worlds suffered, bereft of both prosperity and vitality. In this weakened state, the Daityas and Dānavas, themselves overcome by greed and lacking prosperity and vitality, prepared for war against the gods. The gods, likewise deprived, fought back, but the Daityas defeated them. Defeated and desperate, Indra and the other gods sought refuge. Led by Agni, the gods approached the blessed Grandfather, Brahmā, and recounted all that had transpired. Brahmā then addressed them: “Go to the Lord of all—the destroyer of the Asuras, the cause and ruler of creation, preservation, and destruction—who is the refuge of both the higher and lower worlds. Seek Viṣṇu, the infinite and unconquered Lord of lords, the cause of the manifest and unmanifest, of all effects and causes.” He continued, “Viṣṇu, who removes the distress of those who take refuge in him, will grant you welfare.” Thus, Brahmā, together with all the gods, went to the northern shore of the Milk Ocean. There, with the gods assembled, the Grandfather praised Hari—Lord of the higher and lower—with carefully chosen words: “We bow to the all-pervading, all-peaceful, infinite, unborn, and imperishable one—the support of the worlds, the foundation of the earth, the unmanifest, the undivided. To Nārāyaṇa, the subtlest of the subtle, the greatest of the great, greater than the earth and all else—we bow. In whom all exists, from whom all has arisen, who is the foremost among beings, the god of all creatures, and who is beyond even the highest. He who is beyond the supreme person, who embodies the supreme self, whom yogis contemplate, who is the cause of liberation for those who seek release. In whom the natural qualities such as existence do not exist, who is pure, the most pure among all, the primeval person—may he be gracious to us. May Hari, whose power is not bound by the measures of time, who is ever pure, be gracious to us.” Thus did the gods, led by Brahmā, seek the grace of Lord Viṣṇu, the refuge of all worlds.