When the gods assembled and the mighty river Ganga stood before them, she spoke with humility and distress: “O gods, I cannot bear the blazing energy that has arisen from you.” The fiery force within her was so intense that Ganga’s very being was tormented, her mind deeply troubled. At that moment, the Fire-god Agni, the divine receiver of all sacrificial offerings, addressed her: “Let this embryo be placed here, upon the slopes of the Himalayas.” Obedient to Agni’s words, Ganga released the radiant embryo from her waters. As the embryo emerged from Ganga’s streams, it shone with the brilliance of molten gold—its radiance was dazzling, like the sun itself. From this wondrous event, gold of incomparable splendor reached the earth, along with radiant silver, copper, and black iron, all born from the sharpness of that celestial energy. The impurities that left Ganga’s waters became tin and lead, and from this moment, many metals began to appear upon the earth. Where the embryo was deposited, infused with divine light, the entire forest encircled by the mountains turned golden. From that day forth, O Raghava, that place has been known as jātarūpa—gold—equal in brilliance to fire itself. All the grass, trees, creepers, and shrubs in that region took on a golden hue. Then, the gods, with Indra and the hosts of the wind deities, entrusted the nurturing of the newborn boy to the Krittikas, the starry mothers. United in their resolve, the Krittikas joyfully agreed to nurse the child, declaring, “He is the son of all of us.” The gods proclaimed, “He shall be called Kartikeya, and he will be renowned throughout the three worlds as our son—there is no doubt.” Hearing these words, the assembled gods bathed the radiant child—born 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. Thus Kartikeya, mighty-armed and blazing like fire, came into the world. The excellent milk of the Krittikas then appeared for the child. With his six faces, Kartikeya drank the milk from the breasts of all six mothers. In just one day, though his body was still tender, the mighty Kartikeya vanquished the armies of demons by his own strength. All the immortals, led by Agni, anointed him—the one of great splendor—as the commander of the divine armies. O Rama, thus have I recounted to you the full and auspicious story of Ganga and the blessed birth of the divine boy. O Kakutstha, any man on earth who is devoted to Kartikeya, and who is blessed with sons and grandsons, will surely attain the world of Skanda. Thus ends the thirty-seventh sarga in the Bālakāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, the first poem. Now begins the thirty-eighth sarga. Having narrated this sweet and wondrous tale to Rama, the sage Vishvamitra continued, addressing Kakutstha further: “O hero, there was once a king of Ayodhya, righteous and renowned, named Sagara, who longed for children but remained childless. His elder queen was Keśinī, daughter of the king of Vidarbha, virtuous and truthful. The second wife was Sumati, sister of Suparṇa and daughter of Ariṣṭanemi. Together with his two wives, the great king Sagara performed severe austerities, journeying to Mount Himavat and reaching the sacred Bhṛguprasravaṇa peak. After a hundred years of penance, the illustrious sage Bhṛgu, pleased by their devotion, granted Sagara a boon: ‘You will obtain great offspring, O sinless one, and your fame will be unmatched in the world. One of your wives will bear a single son to continue your line; the other will bear sixty thousand sons.’ Delighted by the sage’s words, the two queens, hands joined in reverence, respectfully asked, ‘O Brāhmaṇa, which of us will bear the single son, and which the many? Please tell us, so your words may come true.’ Bhṛgu replied, ‘Let it be as you each desire. Let one have a single son to continue the lineage, or let there be many mighty, renowned, and energetic sons—each may choose as she wishes.’ Hearing this, Keśinī chose to have a single son to continue the royal line, while Sumati, sister of Suparṇa, wished for sixty thousand energetic and illustrious sons. Circumambulating the sage and bowing to him, Sagara and his wives returned to their city. In time, Keśinī bore Sagara a firstborn son, who became known as Asamañja. Sumati, meanwhile, gave birth to a gourd-like womb from which, when it was split open, sixty thousand sons emerged. Nurses raised these infants in jars filled with ghee, and as time passed, all sixty thousand grew to youthful vigor and beauty. Thus, after many years, Sagara was blessed with sixty thousand sons, all radiant in their prime. Yet the eldest son, Asamañja, developed strange habits: he would seize children and, O descendant of Raghu, cast them into the waters of the Sarayu.” Thus the story flows, linking the divine birth of Kartikeya to the wondrous tale of King Sagara and his extraordinary progeny, as told by the sage Vishvamitra to Rama.