Prompted by Rāma’s gentle inquiry, the great sage Viśvāmitra began to recount the ancient tale of Gaṅgā’s birth. “O Rāma,” he said, “know that Himavat, the majestic lord of mountains and source of countless minerals, had two daughters of unparalleled beauty who graced the earth. Their mother was Menā, slender-waisted and lovely, herself the cherished daughter of Meru and beloved wife of Himavat. From this union came Gaṅgā, the eldest, radiant and pure, and her younger sister, Umā, both daughters of the mighty mountain. When the gods sought to accomplish a great task for the benefit of the worlds, they approached Himavat and asked for Gaṅgā, the river who would flow in three realms. Himavat, ever righteous, agreed and gave his eldest daughter, Gaṅgā, the purifier of all, to serve the welfare of the three worlds. The gods, their purpose fulfilled, departed joyfully, having received Gaṅgā’s promise for the good of all creation. Meanwhile, Umā, steadfast and resolute, devoted herself to severe austerities, her mind unwavering. In time, Himavat gave this daughter, Umā—revered by all and unmatched in beauty—to Rudra, for she was adorned with fierce penance. Thus, O Rāma, you see the two daughters of the king of mountains, honored throughout the world: Gaṅgā, the best of rivers, and Umā Devī. So have I told you, O wise one, how Gaṅgā, she who flows in three paths, first ascended to the heavens. This divine and beautiful river, daughter of Himavat, rose to the world of the gods, sinless and bearing pure waters. When Viśvāmitra paused, the heroic Rāghava and Lakṣmaṇa, deeply moved by the tale, respectfully addressed the sage. ‘O Brāhmaṇa, you have narrated this supreme and righteous story. But we yearn to hear in detail the birth of Gaṅgā, eldest daughter of the king of mountains. Surely you know the wondrous story of her divine and earthly origins. By what cause does Gaṅgā, purifier of the worlds, flow in three paths? How did she come to be called the threefold-flowing one? In the three worlds, by what deeds and with whose association did she act?’ Thus asked, Viśvāmitra, rich in austerity, spoke before the gathered sages: ‘Long ago, O Rāma, the great ascetic Śitikaṇṭha—Mahādeva, blue-throated and wise—had newly wed the goddess. United in joy, they dwelt together, and a hundred divine years passed as they remained in union. Yet, O Rāma, no son was born to them. Seeing this, all the gods, led by the Grandsire Brahmā, grew deeply concerned. They wondered, “If a child is born of this union, who could possibly withstand its energy?” So, the gods approached Mahādeva, bowed low, and pleaded, “O God of gods, great Lord, you who delight in the world’s welfare, by our prostration we implore you to show us your favor. The worlds cannot bear your energy, O best of gods. For the good of all, restrain your power and practice penance with the goddess. Protect the worlds—do not render them uninhabitable.” Hearing their words, the great Lord of all worlds replied, “So be it.” He assured them, “I shall restrain my energy with energy itself, together with the goddess, so that gods and earth may find peace. But this supreme energy of mine, now awakened—who will bear it? Let the best among you declare who shall take on this burden.” The gods answered, “O Bull-bannered One, the earth herself shall bear your energy.” Thus addressed, the mighty Lord released his great energy, which filled the earth, its mountains, and forests. Then the gods turned to Agni, saying, “O blazing one, enter this energy, fierce and swift, accompanied by wind.” Thus, filled by Agni’s power, the White Mountain and the divine Saravana shone like fire and the sun. There, from Agni and the energy of Śiva, was born the radiant Kartikeya. The gods and sages, filled with joy, worshipped Umā and Śiva with great devotion. But Umā, her eyes red with anger, spoke to the gods: “Because I was restrained, though joined with my Lord for the sake of a child, you shall not beget children in your wives—from this day forth, may your wives be childless.” She then cursed the earth as well: “O earth, you shall not have a single form; you shall become as one with many wives. And you, earth, whose mind is so clouded, will not know the happiness that comes from a son, for you have rejected my son and angered me.” Seeing the gods afflicted by these curses, the lord of the gods, Śiva, departed for the region guarded by Varuṇa. There, upon a northern peak born of Himavat, he undertook severe austerities with the goddess. Thus, O Rāma, you have heard the tale as told by the daughter of the mountain. Now, listen as I recount to you, along with Lakṣmaṇa, the wondrous origin of Gaṅgā.