The gods, filled with devotion and joy, worshipped the divine couple with great reverence. Then, O Rama, the daughter of the mountain—Umā—spoke to the assembled gods. Her eyes blazing with anger, she addressed them with words heavy with wrath: “Because I was restrained, though I had joined this union for the sake of a child, you shall not beget offspring in your own wives. From this day forth, may your wives remain childless.” Having thus pronounced a curse upon all the gods, she turned her fury toward the earth as well: “O Earth, you shall never have a single form; you will become one with many wives.” And to one whose mind was clouded, she declared, “You, too, shall not know the joy that comes from a son, for you do not desire my child and have provoked my anger.” Seeing all the gods stricken by these curses, the lord of the gods resolved to act. He departed for the region guarded by Varuṇa. There, upon a northern peak of the Himalayas—born of Himavat himself—the great lord Śiva, together with the goddess, undertook severe austerities. O Rama, this tale, as told by the daughter of the mountain, has now been recounted to you. Now, listen carefully, along with Lakṣmaṇa, as I narrate the origin of Gaṅgā. While Śiva was engaged in his austerities, the gods, led by Indra and Agni, approached the Grandfather—Brahmā—seeking a commander for their celestial army. With great humility, they bowed to the blessed Grandfather and said, “O Lord, the commander you once appointed is now absorbed in severe 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, Brahmā comforted the immortals with gentle words. He replied, “What the daughter of the mountain has spoken is fitting; her words are pure and true. However, this celestial Gaṅgā, in whom Agni will beget a son, will bear the commander of the gods’ army—a destroyer of enemies. The eldest daughter of the king of mountains will honor this son, and Umā herself will hold him in high esteem.” Hearing these words, O descendant of Raghu, all the gods, their wish fulfilled, bowed to Brahmā. They then proceeded to the radiant, jewel-adorned Kailāsa, and there, for the sake of obtaining a son, they appointed Agni to act. They urged Agni, “O god, accomplish this task for the gods: release your energy into Gaṅgā, the daughter of the mountain.” Agni agreed, and, approaching Gaṅgā, he said, “O goddess, bear this embryo; it is dear to the gods.” Hearing Agni’s words, Gaṅgā assumed a divine form. Witnessing her greatness, Agni’s energy spread in all directions, anointing her on every side. Thus, all the streams of Gaṅgā became full, suffused with Agni’s power. Overwhelmed by the intensity of this energy, Gaṅgā turned to the assembly of gods and said, “O gods, I cannot bear the blazing energy that has arisen from Agni.” Burned and distressed, she was then addressed by Agni himself, the receiver of all offerings: “Let this embryo be placed here, on the slopes of the Himalayas.” Obeying Agni’s words, Gaṅgā released the radiant embryo onto the mountain slopes. O sinless one, what emerged from her shone with the brilliance of molten gold. Gold, radiant as the sun, appeared on the earth, followed by silver, copper, and black iron, all born from the sharpness of that energy. Her impurity became tin and lead, and so various metals increased upon the earth. When the radiant embryo was thus deposited, the entire forest, ringed by mountains, became golden. Since that time, O Raghava, the 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, led by Indra and the hosts of wind deities, assigned the Krittikas—the star maidens—to nourish the boy who had been born. The Krittikas, steadfast in their resolve, 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.” Hearing this, they bathed the radiant child, who had emerged from the flow of the embryo, in supreme splendor, as if he were fire itself. Because he had flowed forth from the embryo, the gods named him Skanda; he was Kartikeya, mighty-armed and blazing like fire. The excellent milk of the Krittikas appeared, and the child, having six faces, took milk from the breasts of all six. In a single day, though his body was tender, the mighty Kartikeya vanquished the hosts of demon armies by his own strength. All the gods, led by Agni, then anointed him—the radiant one—as the commander of the divine armies. O Rama, thus I have recounted to you the story of Gaṅgā and the auspicious, blessed birth of the boy Kartikeya.