At that sacred time, from the blazing energy of Agni, the greatly radiant Kartikeya was born. His birth was a marvel, and in response, the gods, accompanied by hosts of sages, gathered in reverence to worship Uma and Shiva, who shone with divine brilliance. Their worship was filled with deep devotion and joy, their hearts overflowing with satisfaction. Yet, as they offered their homage, the daughter of the mountain—Uma—spoke to the gods. Her eyes, reddened with anger, flashed as she addressed them: “Though I had joined with Shiva for the sake of bearing a child, I was restrained. Therefore, from this day forward, you shall not beget offspring with your own wives; may your wives remain childless.” Her words, sharp with indignation, became a curse upon all the gods. Turning her gaze to the earth, Uma declared another curse: “O Earth, you shall not remain of a single form; you shall become one with many wives.” Then, addressing those whose minds were clouded—those who had failed to desire her son and had thus angered her—she pronounced: “You will not know the joy that comes from a son.” Afflicted and troubled by these curses, the gods looked to their lord for guidance. The lord of the gods, seeing their distress, journeyed to the region guarded by Varuṇa. There, upon the northern slope of a peak born of Himavat, the great lord Shiva, together with the goddess Uma, undertook severe austerities. O Rama, thus has the daughter of the mountain recounted these events. Now, listen as I tell you, along with Lakshmana, the story of the origin of Ganga. As Shiva performed his austerities, the gods, with Indra and Agni at their head, approached the Grandfather of all, seeking a commander for their celestial army. Bowing in humility, they addressed him: “O Lord, the commander you once appointed is now absorbed in deep austerities with his wife. For the welfare of the worlds, please arrange what must be done, for you are our supreme refuge.” Hearing their plea, the Grandfather of all worlds comforted the immortals with gentle words. He affirmed that what had been spoken by the daughter of the mountain was pure and true; her words were not unfitting for beings with their own wives. He then declared: “This celestial Ganga, in whom Agni will beget a son, will bear the commander of the gods’ army—the destroyer of enemies. The eldest daughter of the king of mountains will honor him, and he will be greatly esteemed by Uma.” Reassured, the gods bowed and worshipped the Grandfather. They then ascended to the supreme, jewel-adorned Kailasa, where they appointed Agni to accomplish the task of obtaining a son. They requested him: “O god, fulfill this duty for the gods—release your energy into Ganga, the daughter of the mountain.” Agni agreed, and approaching Ganga, he said, “O goddess, bear this embryo; it is dear to the gods.” Hearing his words, Ganga assumed a divine form, her greatness manifest, and Agni’s energy dispersed in all directions. Fire anointed the goddess on every side, and all the streams of the Ganga became full to overflowing. Overwhelmed by the blazing energy within her, Ganga addressed the assembly of gods: “O gods, I am unable to bear this searing energy that has arisen from Agni.” Burned and distressed, she was then told by Agni, the receiver of all offerings, “Let this embryo be placed here, on the slopes of the Himalayas.” Obeying his words, Ganga released the exceedingly radiant embryo from her streams. From her, the mighty and radiant embryo emerged, shining with the brilliance of molten gold. As it touched the earth, gold as bright as the sun appeared, followed by radiant silver, copper, and black iron, all springing forth from its sharpness. Her impurity became tin and lead, and thus, upon the earth, the various metals increased. Where the embryo was deposited, infused with divine radiance, the entire forest encircled by mountains became golden. From that time, O Rama, that place has been known as “jātarūpa”—gold, equal in brilliance to fire. All the grass, trees, creepers, and shrubs there took on a golden hue. Then the gods, together with Indra and the hosts of wind deities, entrusted the Krittikas with nourishing the newborn boy. The Krittikas, firmly resolved, agreed to give him milk, declaring, “He is the son of all of us.” The gods proclaimed, “He shall be called Kartikeya; he will be renowned throughout the three worlds as our son—there is no doubt.” With these words, they bathed the radiant child, who had emerged from the flow of the embryo, in supreme splendor, as though he were blazing fire itself. Because he had flowed forth from the embryo, the gods called him Skanda; Kartikeya, the mighty-armed, shone like fire. The excellent milk of the Krittikas appeared, and with his six faces, Kartikeya drank milk from the breasts of all six mothers. In a single day, though his body was still tender, the mighty child vanquished the armies of demons by his own strength. Seeing his greatness, all the immortals, led by Agni, anointed Kartikeya, the one of great splendor, as the commander of the divine armies. Thus was born and exalted Kartikeya, the radiant son of Agni and Ganga, cherished by the gods and nourished by the Krittikas, destined to lead the celestial hosts.