Once, there was a great soul of immense strength named Kuśa, who was blessed with a virtuous wife from Vidarbha. Together, they had four illustrious sons: Kuśāmba, Kuśanābha, Asūrtarajas, and Vasu. Each of these princes shone with radiance and energy, and were deeply dedicated to upholding the noble duties of the warrior class. Recognizing the righteousness and truthfulness of his sons, Kuśa gathered them and spoke with fatherly wisdom: “My sons, govern well. By upholding righteousness, you will earn great merit.” Inspired by their father’s words, these four noble princes set out to establish their own realms. Kuśāmba, resplendent in his splendor, founded the city of Kauśāmbī. Kuśanābha, steadfast and righteous, established Mahodaya. Asūrtarajas, the king, founded Dharmāraṇya, while Vasu, the noble ruler, established the excellent city of Girivraja. O Rāma, this very land where you now stand was once ruled by the great Vasu. All around, five magnificent mountains rise, shining in their beauty. Through them flows the delightful river Sumāgadhī, renowned among the Māgadhas, gracing the landscape like a garland draped across the five chief peaks. This is the Māgadhī river, belonging to the great Vasu—fertile, long cherished, and abundant with crops. In this noble lineage, Kuśanābha, the royal sage and righteous king, was blessed with a hundred incomparable daughters by his wife Ghṛtācī. These maidens, radiant in youth and beauty, adorned themselves splendidly and entered the palace gardens like a hundred rivers swelling with the rains. Singing, dancing, and playing sweet music, they reveled in supreme delight, their ornaments sparkling as they moved gracefully through the groves. Their beauty was unmatched on earth; as they entered the gardens, they were like stars shining amidst the clouds. It was then that the wind-god, lord of all beings, beheld these virtuous and youthful maidens. Moved by desire, he spoke to them: “I wish for you all to become my wives. Abandon your human state, and you shall attain long life. While youth fades quickly among mortals, I will grant you unfading youth and immortality.” Hearing the words of the wind-god, whose power is effortless and who pervades all beings, the hundred maidens laughed gently and replied: “O best of the gods, you move within all creatures, and all know your strength. Why, then, do you disregard us so? We are the daughters of King Kuśanābha, and we practice austerity to remain true to our place and duty. May such a time never come when you would dishonor our truthful father. We seek a husband only through him, for he is our lord and our highest deity. Whoever our father gives us to, he shall be our husband.” Enraged by their steadfastness, the wind-god, Hari, entered their bodies with his great power and broke them, reducing their forms to the size of a finger. Afflicted and terrified, the maidens returned to the palace, their bodies twisted, their hearts agitated, modesty and tears filling their eyes. Seeing his beloved daughters so afflicted and distressed, King Kuśanābha was overcome with sorrow. He addressed them with concern: “What is this, my daughters? Who has acted against righteousness? Who has dared to harm you so? You walk before me, but do not speak.” Sighing deeply, the king tried to compose himself. The hundred maidens, bowing to their father and touching his feet, spoke at last: “O king, it was the wind, who pervades all, who sought to violate us, following an unrighteous path and disregarding dharma. We are under your authority, father, not independent. If you choose to give us to him, then we would be his. But because he did not heed our words and persisted in his sinful intent, he struck us harshly with his power.” Hearing this, the supremely righteous king, radiant with virtue, addressed his daughters: “Patience is the greatest duty of the forbearing, my daughters. You have acted together and preserved the honor of our lineage. Adornment is a woman’s ornament, but patience is the ornament of men; yet such forbearance is difficult even for the gods. The patience you have shown, my daughters, is without equal—patience is charity, patience is truth, patience is sacrifice. Patience is fame, patience is righteousness, and the world itself rests upon patience.” Having spoken thus, the mighty king let his daughters go. Then, with wisdom and care, he consulted his ministers about arranging suitable marriages for his daughters, considering the proper time, place, and worthy recipients. At that very time, a radiant sage named Cūlī, steadfast in celibacy and virtue, was engaged in deep Brahmanical austerity. Serving him was Somadā, a Gandharva maiden and daughter of Ūrmilā, who devoted herself to him with humility and devotion. Pleased with her service, the sage one day spoke: “I am pleased with you, Somadā. Tell me, what can I do to make you happy?